


Christmas, 1977

by HPsmartone32



Series: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs Proudly Present: [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hogwarts Seventh Year, M/M, Marauders' Era, the usual, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2018-12-14 03:26:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 51,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11774526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPsmartone32/pseuds/HPsmartone32
Summary: At 9:07 am on Christmas morning, 1977, six teenagers in varying states of dishevel and undress looked towards the frozen, snow-covered lake and unknowingly thought identical thoughts. In the seconds that followed, they all thought that they were in for a perfectly ordinary Christmas, and each was soon proven very, very wrong.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story will be this Prologue + six chapters, one from each Remus, Peter, James, Sirius, Severus, Lily. All chapters cover the same time period: Christmas day, 1977. 
> 
> Enjoy! Tell me what you think!

**Prologue**

 

 

_On Christmas Eve of 1977, there was a snowstorm of epic proportions in the Highlands of Scotland. At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where nearly four feet of snow covered the castle and grounds, six teenagers awoke at approximately the same time and spent the first few waking minutes of their last Christmas at school staring at what the blizzard left in its wake._

 

_That morning, for just a few minutes, the fear and anxiousness that had burrowed into their minds was cast out. Similar thoughts crossed all six minds at precisely the same moments; but they were not thoughts of missing loved ones, terrorized muggles, or the latest Wizarding War news at all. For those precious moments, six teenagers who would each change the course of the war in dramatic ways thought of nothing more than the beauty and peace that had wrapped itself so wholly around their school._

 

_Yes, the thick blanket of snow drew these students to start their day in the same way, but the next twenty-four hours marking their last Christmas at Hogwarts played out very differently starting the moment they looked away from the snow._

  
_  
One would make a move that four of them had seen coming for ages._

 

_One would unknowingly begin the downfall of the other five._

 

_One would have the best day of his life thus far._

 

_One would doubt his loyalties for the first time._

 

_And two of them who had recently called off a relationship would be brought together again, if only for a few hours._

 

_… But let’s not get ahead of ourselves._

  
_  
At 9:07 am on Christmas morning, 1977, six teenagers in varying states of dishevel and undress looked towards the frozen, snow-covered lake and unknowingly thought identical thoughts._

  
_  
"Wow," breathed Lily and Peter from opposite sides of Gryffindor tower._

  
_  
"Yeah," answered Sirius and James from the same room, different windows._

  
_  
_ Everything's so peaceful, _thought Remus and Severus as they shivered on towers on each end of the castle._

  
_And in the seconds that followed, they all thought that they were in for a perfectly ordinary Christmas, and each was soon proven very, very wrong._


	2. Chapter One: Remus Lupin

**Chapter One: Remus Lupin**

 

 

The snow really was beautiful, Remus had to admit that much as he dragged himself to his feet. The grounds spoke in whispering movements beneath him: the Whomping Willow half-heartedly attempting to shake snow off it’s branches, smoke rising lazily from Hagrid’s Hut, an owl gracefully swooping out of the sky towards the Owlery on the west side of the castle.

 

Briefly swept up in the beauty and innocence of a fresh snow, Remus stared out at the grounds without really thinking of much else.  _ Everything is so peaceful _ , he mused idly before feeling his chest constrict as a new train of thought arrived. 

 

_ He _ loved the snow; said the sky matched his eyes at the ice matched his soul, the self-deprecating bastard.

 

Remus made a noise he wasn’t entirely comfortable naming and looked away from the grounds, his eyes falling onto the large jar of blue flames and James’ invisibility cloak at his feet. Remus shivered, despite his other four layers, despite the fact that he had melted the snow on top of the astronomy tower in the early hours of the morning when he arrived there, and picked up the jar of flames first, fitting it snugly in the crook of his arm. 

 

He instantly felt warmer. 

 

He threw James’ cloak around his shoulders one-handed, checked to make sure that the Map was still in his sweatpants pocket, and took a deep breath to steady himself. Back to the dormitory, then.

 

He was halfway back before he remembered it was Christmas. He was two-thirds of the way back when he realized that he didn’t particularly care. Since he was eleven, he’d spent all of his Christmases at Hogwarts. While he started staying for the holidays to escape his mother’s pitiful looks and his father’s guilt, it soon became a Marauder tradition for all of them to stay over break. Some of his favorite memories happened over Christmas holidays: him, James, Peter, and Sirius running full tilt into pranks, exploring, and usually a couple of detentions.

 

The past two Christmases had been more subdued, though. With war looming and Remus a Prefect (for all the good  _ that _ did…), the Marauders had settled into easy, if not still somewhat mischievous, holidays of lounging around, Mapping, eating entirely too much food, and bitching about whoever’s family or love life was the shittiest (usually Sirius’ and James’, respectively). 

 

It wasn’t until he was climbing the stairs to his dormitory and hoping that maybe everyone was still asleep that he remembered the part of their Christmas tradition that hadn’t been altered since that first Christmas in first year: the Marauders waited until everyone was awake to open presents, and then opened Marauder presents first.  _ Hogwarts Christmas, Hogwarts family first _ , eleven-year-old James had told him and Peter seriously, before bringing the pillow he held over his head down hard on Sirius’ sleeping face in a rude awakening. 

 

Steeling himself, Remus pushed open the door to the seventh year boys’ dormitory and (of course) found everyone awake. 

 

Conversations died and every head turned to look at him. Frank and Garrett, two of the six seventh year Gryffindor boys, nodded Remus hello before going back to opening their presents and comparing amongst themselves. 

 

With the Marauders, however, he wasn’t so lucky. “Another early morning walk?” James asked, brows furrowed. “You okay, mate?” 

 

Out of the corner of his vision, Remus saw Sirius shift uncomfortably in the bed next to James’. Just as he opened his mouth to answer, something else on Sirius’ bed caught his eye, he turned his head to have a proper look. Wrapping paper littered Sirius’ bed and the floor around it, and his new gifts, shiny and unwrapped, sat on the pillow behind him. 

 

Sirius stared at his bed, refusing to look up. Remus looked over to Peter, who was leaning against the window sill, and then back at James who stood shirtless a few steps from the loo door, his face a portrait of concern.

 

The silence lasted only three seconds, but it felt like hours passed before Remus pulled his face into a cheeky grin (with a great effort), and used his wand to shoot a wrapping paper ball from the floor lazily at Sirius, “Well I would’ve stuck around if I’d knew you lot would start without me.” 

 

James’ expression didn’t change, but Peter chuckled, “Padfoot’s apparently a five year old boy when it comes to Christmas presents - no patience.”

 

“Can’t even keep up a tradition for a lousy seven years,” James muttered, finally relaxing his face and rolling his eyes. 

 

“Traditions are just rules wrapped in pretty colors,” Sirius shot back, magicking the wrapping paper ball Remus had shot at him towards James, who snatched it out of the air reflexively. “They deserve to be broken now and again.”

 

“Whatever,” James fell onto his bed and pulled three presents towards him from the pile at the end of his four poster. “I’m still going to open in order.” He looked to the other two and tilted his head. 

 

Peter shrugged and walked over to his pile; Remus did the same. He threw James’ cloak and his other outer layers on his own bed before choosing the three gifts from each of the other Marauders from the pile at the end of it. He sat on Peter’s bed with the other boy, now each in sweatpants and an undershirt. 

 

He glanced over at Sirius, whose bed was directly across from Peter’s, and noticed that he had opened nearly all of his gifts excepting the green envelope Remus had given him. As Remus watched, Sirius picked it up and looked up at him. They made eye contact for one of the first times since the night term ended; Remus felt like he’d been punched in the chest. 

 

Oblivious to this, Peter held up a gift, and looked at James, “Sirius’ gifts first then, the git.”

 

“Sure,” Remus shrugged as Sirius lazily shot Peter a rude hand gesture. 

 

Remus Lupin was good at hiding things, and never had this skill been so tested as when he had to act nonchalant towards Sirius as his heart threatened to beat a hole through his shirt. Impossibly, keeping their secret from James and Peter was harder now that they’d broken up than it had ever been when they were whatever-they-were. 

 

He heard wrapping paper tearing from beside him. Shaking those thoughts from his head, Remus pulled a larger, terribly wrapped gift into his lap. The wrapping paper had dancing House Elves with Christmas hats on it. Remus cracked a smile. He ripped open the gift in one go and spent the next few seconds reminding himself to breathe. 

 

It was a beautiful brown leather case with gold embossed letters reading: Professor R. J. Lupin. 

 

The memory swallowed him. 

  
  


_ They walked in muggle London where it was safe.  _

 

_ Not safe in any real way, for the war was most prominent there, but it was safe for two wizards to walk aimlessly without being recognized. It was safe for them to walk so close together that their shoulders bumped together more often than they didn’t, and a subtle brush of one’s hand on the other’s would go unnoticed.  _

 

_ It was the end of August 1977 and so many things were new to Remus- the intensity of the war that surrounded them, the seemingly permanent smell of alcohol on his mother’s breath, and the feeling, not unlike the feeling of goosebumps but more pleasant than that, that raced through his arms and spread through his entire body every time Sirius stealthily ran the tips of his fingers along Remus’ palm.  _

 

_ The many passers-by on the busy sidewalk hardly paid them any attention, which was probably for the best - Remus couldn’t keep the stupid grin off his face. To his continued astonishment and delight, Sirius also seemed unable to hide his smile. Remus didn’t know what had made Sirius do it, but since Sirius had kissed him over a month ago, Remus had felt like he was living in a dream. Or perhaps in someone else’s life entirely. How was this really, truly happening to  _ him _? _

 

_ “Oh, look!” Sirius exclaimed suddenly, shoving through two paunchy businessmen and pointing at the window of a shop down the block a bit.  _

 

_ Remus’ eyes followed, and he laughed. “What on earth do you need a leather case of that size for, Sirius? All those essays you write the morning they’re due? Or your dungbomb collection, perhaps?” _

 

_ “Stuff it,” Sirius rolled his eyes, saddling up to the window of the shop. “It’s not for me, it’s for you!” _

 

_ Remus cocked an eyebrow curiously as Sirius turned to face him. _

 

_ “You’ll need a briefcase thing if you want to be a professor! Isn’t that what all the fancy professors have? Leather briefcases and tweed jackets?” _

 

_ “I hope you know I’m picturing McGonagall in a tweed jacket right now,” Remus told him, amused. _

 

_ “I’m serious, you told me the other night that you’d like to teach and how else are you going to haul around all those essays you need to mark up if you don’t have a case?” _

 

_ “Firstly, you know we’re wizards, right?” Remus said quietly, glancing around at the muggles. “Second, it was the only thing I could come up with at the time. I can’t really be a Hogwarts teacher.” It hurt him a little to point this out.  _

 

_ “And why not?” Sirius demanded. A group of women glanced at them curiously as they walked around them. _

 

_ “Many reasons,” Remus winced. “But primarily, my furry little problem. Who will hire me if -” _

 

_ “Dumbledore will, he doesn’t give a shit,” Sirius shrugged.  _

 

_ Remus opened his mouth to protest again, but Sirius stopped him by grabbing his left hand in his right hand. Remus immediately lost the air he needed to speak. Suddenly Remus would have sworn they were the only two people on the sidewalk. _

 

_ “Remus,” Sirius said, looking right into his eyes, his heart. “You’d be the best teacher anyone at Hogwarts has ever seen. Don’t deprive the world of Professor R. J. Lupin just because you have some misguided idea that you’re a monster.” _

 

_ Remus swallowed hard. “Sirius,” he started. But he couldn’t find the words. His throat was tight with emotions he couldn’t quite name.  _

 

_ Sirius, understanding, nodded, and then dropped Remus’ hand to rub the back of his neck. “Fine,” he said, his easy grin back in place as he turned to look into the shop at the case again, dropping his hand to his side. “No briefcase for now, but I’m not going to give up on this,” he looked back at Remus, his grey eyes sincere, “and I won’t let you give up on it either.” Remus knew he wasn't talking about the case anymore.  _

 

_ Remus nodded and Sirius fell back to stand beside him as they started walking. A few moments passed in silence and then Remus snorted and bumped into Sirius playfully, looking up at the slightly taller boy, “Professor R. J. Lupin?” _

 

_ Sirius smiled at him and shrugged, “Sounds more professional that way, I think.” _

 

_ Remus laughed, “Whatever you say.” Sirius smirked and grabbed his hand once again and they walked a whole block hand-in-hand through the crowd of muggle Londoners before letting go.  _

  
  


When he again found himself in the present day, Remus blinked hard, and heard James and Peter bickering over whose gifts to open next. He quickly shoved Sirius’ present under his bed before sitting back on Peter’s as James said, “Let’s just do Moony’s now since he’s lost in his head.”

 

Remus looked at James and made some sort of a half-nod, half-shrug gesture. He resolutely avoided looking at Sirius. 

 

The rest of the present-opening was uneventful, and when all four of them had finished opening gifts and thanking each other, Sirius stood from his four poster and stretched. Remus busied himself vanishing all of the wrapping paper. Frank and Garrett, who had finished opening presents around the same time the Marauders did, headed out in search of food.

 

“Well, good haul this year, considering,” Sirius sighed. “I’m going to take a shower, gotta look my best for Christmas dinner and all.”

 

Peter grumbled something in agreement and stood up to follow Sirius. Remus glanced at Sirius and saw him quickly slide the unopened green envelope into his pajama pocket.

 

“Thank Merlin, you smell like old socks,” James muttered as Sirius started toward the door, earning himself a face full of Sirius’ shirt for his cheek. James shot up, gagging on the fabric, “For fuck’s sake Padfoot, what do you have against letting the damned House Elves wash your clothes once a century?” Sirius, saluting sarcastically, didn’t answer as he closed the door to the showers behind him.

 

James tossed Sirius’ shirt to the floor near his bed and looked purposefully at Remus. Remus raised his eyebrows, nervous about what James wanted. He knew James was more perceptive than he had let on about the tension in the group lately, but there was no way he could know the real reason. And Remus sure as hell wasn’t about to tell him. 

 

He was just cementing a good lie in his head when James turned his head back toward the loo to check that they were alone and then reached under his pillow, pulling out a small, neatly gift-wrapped present.

 

“I didn’t want to open this in front of Sirius,” he explained guiltily. “He’s been in shit mood lately, I’m sure you’ve noticed.” James shares a commiserating look with Remus, making the latter’s stomach fill with lead. Remus tried to look somewhat annoyed in solidarity with James, and nodded in ‘agreement.’ James continued, “He’s been particularly weird about -” he paused, redirected. “This is from Lily.” He held up the gift in his hand. 

 

_ Oh, yes, James, Sirius has been particularly unwilling to hear you endlessly opine about Lily because I ripped his heart out seven days ago. Mine, too, come to think of it. Stomped on them both really thoroughly. Good times. _

 

Remus checked his internal monologue and walked over to sit by James. “How’s that going?”

 

James shrugged. “We work together well,” he says noncommittally. Remus shot him a look and James laughed, “Fine, fine, it’s going well, I think. We’ve been, er, spending a lot of time together.” He ran the hand not holding the present through his hair.

 

“It’s probably something stupid,” James muttered and Remus finally realizes why James waited until everyone else was gone to open it. As arrogant as the kid can be, James longs to be accepted and loved. He thrives when he’s surrounded by people who care about him, and hates it when he’s received badly by people he cares about. Since the day Lily Evans turned him down for the first time, all the posturing and all the jokes have existed purely to hide his insecurity.

 

“Won’t know until you open it,” Remus told him.

 

“You know,” James looked up at him. “This is the first time she’s gotten me anything at all.”

 

Remus smiled at him, and this time it’s genuine. “Well, I’ve heard you work well together.”

 

James laughed. He looked back at his hands and unwrapped the gift. Inside is an elegant box.

 

“Maybe she got you a pretty necklace,” Remus mused.

 

James ignored him and opened the box. There’s a short note on top of whatever the gift is.

 

_ James, _

 

_ I didn’t touch it first, so it will only know your hand, which is fitting. _

 

_ Lily _

 

Remus glanced James’ confused face for an answer; finding none, he watched as James lifts the note and reveals a pristine golden snitch. James picked it up, entranced, and looked at it closely before breaking into the largest grin Remus had seen him wear in a long time.

 

“What?”

 

James turned the snitch so Remus could see. Engraved across the middle of the snitch was “Property of the Arrogant, Bullying Toerag.”

 

Remus frowned, “Well, that’s not very nice of her.” He’d thought that Lily had warmed significantly towards James. In fact, he wouldn’t be the first one to say that lately they’d even been  _ flirting _ . Quite a bit, too.

 

James laughed, “No, no, it’s a joke. Well, kind of.” Remus was further confused. “It’s a running gag between us, don’t worry, Moony. It’s a brilliant gift.”

 

Remus didn’t get it. Shrugging at James as he stood up, he supposed he didn’t have to. James seemed happy enough, anyway. 

 

Remus and James dressed in silence. Remus had just pulled his jumper over his head when he heard the door open.

 

“Sirius still in here?” Frank Longbottom poked his head into the room.

 

“Er - he’s in the shower,” James told him. “Why?”

 

“Got a message for him from Dumbledore,” Frank opened the door further and walked in. 

 

“Dumbledore? What’s it say?” Remus asked.

 

Frank threw him a look, “Don’t know, didn’t open it.”

 

“Right.”

 

“I’ll give it to him,” James stepped forward and held out his hand.

 

Frank hesitated for a second then handed it over, “Yeah, alright, thanks.”

 

James nodded and Frank left again. Remus caught James’ eye.

 

“No clue,” James told him.

 

Once James and Remus were fully dressed, Sirius emerged from the showers in a cloud of steam with a towel around his waist and his sweatpants draped over an arm. James handed Sirius the note and he tore it open. Remus and James watched as his eyes scanned the parchment.

 

“He wants me to meet him in his office ‘at my earliest convenience,’” Sirius murmured, confused.

 

“What’d you do?” James asked, his voice slipping into what the other three referred to as his Big Bad Head Boy Voice.

 

“Ugh, you sound like Moony,” Sirius rolled his eyes and threw his sweatpants and the note onto his bed. “I didn’t do anything,” Sirius continued as he dug through his trunk. “At least not as far as I can remember.” He pulled out a pair of mostly clean jeans. Paused. “Mighta locked Peeves in a suit of armor the other day, but let’s face it, that’s first year shit.”

 

“What does he want then?” James asked.

 

“If I knew, I’d tell you,” Sirius said irritably as he tugged on a pair of boxers and then his jeans. “Maybe he wants to make me Quidditch captain after your team nearly lost to Hufflepuff before break.”

 

James scowled. “You’d have to be on the team for that - wanna try out?”

 

“And take orders from you? Pass.” 

 

“Technically, you already do because I’m -”

 

“If you say Head Boy, I’m going to hex you in the face.”

 

“Quit flirting,” Peter cut them off as he entered the dormitory, letting another puff of steam in. “What’s this I hear about Dumbledore summoning us?”

 

“Not us, him,” James said, thumbing at Sirius before scooping up a mince pie his mother sent him for Christmas. Distracted, neither James nor Peter saw Sirius turn bright red at Peter’s comment and dive into his trunk eerily fast to search for a jumper. Remus noticed, though, before he turned to hide his own face by staring out of the window.

 

_ Subtle, real subtle, _ his mind chided him. He looked to where he’d deposited the sweatpants he’d been wearing the night before and bent to grab them. He felt that the map was still in the pocket. 

 

“Moony, you up for a game of chess and some pie while Sirius gets expelled or some shit?” James asked from across the room. 

 

Remus looked up, hoping his face wasn’t still flushed. “Depends, are you going to flip the board if I beat you again?”

 

“That was one time! Two years ago!” James defended himself as the other two laughed. “I was having a bad day, okay? Merlin, I hate you all.” 

 

Remus smiled at him, “I know.”

 

He dropped the pants into his trunk and shuffled through it to find his bag of chess pieces. Scooping up the pie James’ mother had sent Remus and stacking it on his own, James followed Remus down to the common room.

  
  
  


Both of James’ mother’s pies later, Remus and James were playing their tiebreaker match of chess. As usual when Remus and James played each other, the two games they had split were long and very close and they had attracted a rotating audience of students. 

 

Remus had studied Wizard’s Chess solitarily growing up, occasionally convincing his father to play him but more often playing both sides himself. When he’d shown up at Hogwarts for his first year, he’d wowed the common room with his ability to beat even the older students. And then, one night, James sat down opposite him. 

 

James lost the match that first night, but it was close - closer than Remus was used to. James had just shrugged, saying he hadn’t played much growing up. He’d borrowed an older student’s pieces to see what the whole fuss was about that night after Remus had wiped the floor with a fifth year. 

 

Remus had gaped at him. It took him a few weeks before he understood how James, who didn’t even own his own chess set, had nearly beaten him that night. While James was certainly smarter than most people gave him credit for, it was his mind for strategy that made him a prime chess player. And that, Remus learned, he’d gotten from his obsession with Quidditch.

 

That first Christmas, Remus had gifted James his own set of chess pieces; James returned that kindness by becoming the first person at Hogwarts to beat Remus at wizard’s chess later that very day. Their Christmas chess matches had since become an accidental tradition. 

 

Sirius had shuffled past them during their first match, and waved off James’ and Remus’ calls for good luck. Peter had joined them not long after that, draping himself lazily on a nearby chair. Other students stopped and watched for a few minutes here and there as they passed through the common room, but neither James nor Remus took any real notice of them. 

 

“So what’s been going on with you lately, Moony,” James asked when their student audience had dispersed about fifteen minutes into their third game. He directed one of his knights to E7 in a retreat move. “You’ve been gone more mornings than not since break started. You only ever disappear like that when something's eating you up.”

 

Remus was so caught off guard by the abrupt question that he nearly moved one of his bishops into James’ trap. He quickly checked that they and Peter were alone in the common room before shrugging. “Castle to A4,” he muttered to his set. As his castle pounded through one of James’ pawns, he looked up at his friend and found that his eyes were searching Remus’ face. Remus could tell that James had been working up to asking the question for a while.  “It’s nothing, just been feeling restless,” Remus lied. 

 

“That time of the month again?” Peter asked. 

 

“That’s not for another two and a half weeks, Wormtail,” James snapped irritably, looking back to the chess board. 

 

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, I was just asking.”

 

“It’s a pretty regular schedule, you’d think you would’ve picked up on it by now.”

 

“James,” Remus cut in wearily. 

 

James looked up and caught his eye again, then sighed. “Sorry,” he muttered to Peter. “Queen to A4,” he told his pieces. “Check.”

 

“Shit,” Remus couldn’t believe he missed that; James had effing double-trapped him. 

 

“Look, Remus, I know -”

 

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” Remus told him brusquely, and maneuvered his king out of peril. 

 

If he didn’t know James so well, Remus would think that he was trying to throw Remus off his game. However, six years of friendship had taught him that James was nothing if not observant. It was probable that James had noticed the cut of tension between him and Sirius and was trying to patch it up. James had always been the glue that held the four of them together, even though people assumed that that was Remus’ job. 

 

Remus could tell that James wanted to push the matter, but he didn’t. Instead, he finished the game quickly, funneling Remus into checkmate in five moves. 

 

“Remus, do you want to do the customary board flip or can I?” Peter asked in mock excitement after James checkmated him. 

 

James flipped a finger at him and Remus laughed. 

 

“Good game, mate,” he smiled at James. He was only slightly bitter that he lost; James’ strategy-driven mind had sharpened exponentially since he’d been named Quidditch captain the year previous and Remus still hadn’t adjusted completely. 

 

James nodded, “You too, as always.” He waved his wand and his pieces flew into their bag. “Wanna head down to Christmas dinner? I’m starved.” He frisbee’d the two empty cardboard pie plates into the fire from where he sat. Peter pulled a regal face and tapped his fingers to his other palm in what Remus assumed was supposed to be dignified applause.

 

Remus rolled his eyes and swept his pieces into their bag, muttering an apology to them for allowing James’ pieces to beat them to a pulp. Standing, he stretched his arms over his head and nodded, “Yeah, I could go for some turkey.”

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw James stand too quickly and trip over a leg of his chair. He fell into Remus’ side and the latter barely brought his hands down fast enough to catch his friend and keep them both from toppling over. 

 

Peter laughed, “How you’re the most graceful of us,  _ Prongs _ , I’ll never know.”

 

“He’s got a point,” Remus added as James straightened and shoved his chess bag in his pocket. He threw Peter an annoyed look, “Shut it, at least I can’t be stepped on,  _ Wormtail _ .”

 

“Okay, Hagrid’s feet are huge and Sirius had bucked me off his back - that was  _ not _ my fault!” He scowled. 

 

“Eh, point, James,” Remus tallied. “Tie score.” 

 

James shoved him playfully, “Git.” He picked up the chess board, “I’ll run the set back upstairs.” He grabbed Remus’ bag of pieces off of the table and bounded up the stairs. 

 

“I hope Padfoot’s alright,” Peter said after a moment of silence, furrowing his brow. “He never came back, did he?”

 

Remus frowned. Peter was right, what could Dumbledore have wanted that took this long?

 

He thought of pulling the Map from his pocket and checking to make sure everything was alright, but before he could, he heard James coming back down the stairs shouting something vaguly insulting to Remus about beating him so soundly at chess. Remus shot something sarcastic back at him as he jumped the last three stairs, and the three of them walked out of the common room. Sirius would surely be in the Great Hall - he wasn’t one to miss a feast. 

  
  
  


The Great Hall wasn’t crowded by any means, but there were many more people sitting around House tables than there usually were during the holidays. With the war ramping up and the Death Eaters becoming more brazen, many parents decided that their children were safer under the protection of Hogwarts and Albus Dumbledore. Remus couldn’t blame them. 

 

Halfway down the table, Remus spotted Sirius piling food onto his plate and felt the tension leave his body. He hadn’t really thought anything dire had happened, but seeing Sirius looking relatively nonchalant (if a little upset) was a relief. He knew that Sirius had done more than one reckless thing when he was angry or upset, and the last time Remus had spoken to him in private he’d been both. 

 

He saw James and Peter relax beside him and knew he wasn’t the only one who had been worried. 

 

Remus led the way to where Sirius sat and fell onto the bench across the table from him, offering him a small smile. 

 

“You’re still here!” James exclaimed as he clapped Sirius on the shoulder and dropped down on the bench next to him. 

 

“Looks like we’ll have to bribe Dumbledore with more galleons next time if we really want to get rid of him, mates,” Peter shook his head in mock sadness. 

 

“Shame, I’d been saving for ages,” Remus tacked on, grabbing a plate. 

 

“You’re all hilarious,” Sirius deadpanned. “Really, keep it up, I can’t breath for laughing.”

 

“Were you in with Dumbledore this whole time?” James asked as he piled mashed potatoes on his plate. “I kicked Moony’s ass in Wizard’s chess, you missed it!”

 

Remus scowled and chucked a pea at him. It bounced off his glasses.

 

Sirius shrugged in response. “Ran into Evans on the way here,” he deflected. James immediately took the bait, but Remus frowned. “She said she liked your gift, Prongs,” Sirius continued and smirked his trademark smirk. Merlin, Remus hadn’t seen that on his face in at least a week. 

 

“She did?” James asked, searching Sirius’ face for signs he was jerking him around. 

 

“Yep,” Sirius popped the ‘p’ on the word. “We were walking in together but then we ran into -” he stopped abruptly. 

 

“Who?” Peter asked. 

 

Sirius looked uncomfortable and changed tactics, “Actually, wait, I ran into Evans on the fourth floor right by that mirror that conceals the passage to Hogsmeade - she can’t know about that, right?”

 

“What?” James, who had started looking to see if Lily was at the table, snapped his head back to look at Sirius. “Nah, she couldn’t.”  

 

“Even if she did, would she even use it? She threatened to give me detention once for trying to sneak out of the castle after curfew,” Peter rolled his eyes.

 

“I think you’re not giving her enough credit,” Remus told them. “Plus, it’s your own damn fault, honestly. If I’d known, I would have given you a detention for getting caught in the first place,  _ Wormtail. _ ”

 

“Moony’s got a point there,” Sirius waved his fork at Peter. 

 

“Three-way tie then,” James nodded at Remus and Peter before scanning the table. “But she definitely said she liked my gift? Did she say anything else?”

 

Sirius rolled his eyes and looked over to Remus with an exasperated expression. It was such a familiar thing, that look that they shared, that Remus genuinely smiled. They held eye contact for one heartbeat, two, the easy moment filling with more and more things left unsaid until Sirius looked down at his plate. Remus let out the breath he’d been holding. 

 

“But, c’mon, what’d Dumbledore want?” Peter asked immediately before shoving so much turkey in his mouth Remus thought he’d choke. 

 

“Yeah, you were gone for hours,” James looked back at his mate. “Everything okay?”

 

“Peachy.”

 

“Sirius,” James started, sounding annoyed. 

 

“James,” Sirius said back in the same tone. 

 

“Was it bad? Did you do something stupid?”

 

“When have I ever done anything...” Sirius stopped at the identical looks on all three of his mates’ faces. “Well, fair, but no, it wasn’t really about me and I definitely don’t want to get into it right now. The only thing I want to get into is this turkey and maybe another bird later tonight, if you catch my drift.” Remus felt sick to his stomach as Sirius pulled out that smirk again. James and Peter laughed and groaned, respectively. 

 

Remus turned towards the door to the Great Hall, trying to distract himself, just as Lily marched in looking flustered. 

 

“Prongs,” Remus nodded at the door. If he had known who would walk through after her, he might not have, but how could he have guessed that Severus Snape was the one who she and Sirius had run into? Sirius hadn’t finished that particular thought, unfortunately. 

 

“Wonder what that was about,” James commented, trying (and failing) to keep his voice neutral. 

 

“Maybe she liked his present too,” Sirius muttered quietly, stabbing a sausage rather violently. 

 

Remus and Peter both shot Sirius scolding looks. Sirius looked up and locked eyes with Remus again, eyebrows raised, daring him to comment, until Remus looked away. 

 

James watched as Snape took a seat at the table behind the bench Remus was on. Remus watched Lily fall into a seat next to a sixth year Gryffindor prefect named Alice. 

 

The rest of the dinner passed without much incident. Christmas crackers were pulled, pudding was eaten, and everyone laughed almost like they had each Christmas for the past six years. 

 

Almost. 

 

After they were all too full to eat any more, a feat if there ever was one, the four Marauders trudged back up the steps towards the Gryffindor common room. Remus could practically hear his favorite comfy chair by the fire calling his name. 

 

They reached the common room after what seemed like too many stairs and Peter made to sit in Remus’ chair before Remus sent a mild stinging hex at him, “Dibs,” he told him when he jumped away from the chair.

 

“You can’t call dibs if I’m already there,” Peter pouted.

 

“Just did,” Remus shrugged, collapsing into the chair with a sigh. “Worth it.”

 

“Fuck off,” Peter said, annoyed. He fell back onto the nearby couch with Sirius, who had fallen over the back of it so that his head rested on the cushion and his feet hung off the back.

 

James sat in the chair across from Remus, “You gotta be more assertive, Wormtail.” He dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a shiny new snitch. He set it free, let it get nearly out of arm’s reach, and then snatched it up again.

 

“Sweet Circe, I thought you lost that bloody thing,” Sirius said, watching James upside down.

 

Remus tried to catch his eye out of habit, but Sirius didn’t look at him. James hadn’t lost the last snitch - near the beginning of their sixth year Remus and Sirius had made a pact, woken in the middle of the night, stolen it out of his pants pocket, and flushed it down the third year boy’s toilet just to be extra thorough about it. They had to make sure that James never found it nor it, James. The boy had spent the last half of their fifth year and the entirety of the following summer messing with the damned thing and the two of them had had enough. They hadn’t even told Peter what they did; the next morning they acted as clueless as he was when James tore apart the room looking for it.

 

“Different snitch,” James smirked at him. “Got it for Christmas.”

 

“Fuck, who hates me enough to give you a new snitch for Christmas?” Sirius marveled. Remus and Peter laughed.

 

“C’mon it’s not that bad,” Peter said, watching as James caught the thing with his left hand.

 

“You’re right, it’s worse,” Remus threw a look at James, who rolled his eyes.

 

“Just because it tickles you silly to watch him pretend he’ll let it get away 300 times a day doesn’t mean it’s not bloody irritating for the rest of us,” Sirius rolled his head to look at Peter, who flipped him off. 

 

“Give him a break,” James said, kicking the snitch with the top of his toes so it zoomed straight into his right hand. He looked up at them as he released it again, “I  _ am _ rather talented when it comes to -” He broke off as the portrait hole opened. Remus saw Lily and Alice step through. Before he could even turn back to look at James, he had snatched the snitch and shoved it back into his pocket.

 

Sirius put his hands on the back of the couch and pulled himself up to see who had walked in. He turned back to James, who was trying to look casual, “Well that’s interesting.”

 

“ _ ShutuprightnoworI’llkillyouinyoursleep _ ,” James hissed at Sirius so fast that Remus nearly missed it.

 

Sirius laughed his bark of a laugh that made Remus’ heart jump and put his hands behind his head as he laid back down on the couch cushion.

 

“What’s so funny?” Lily broke away from Alice and walked over. She grabbed Sirius’s feet and flipped him backward off of the couch entirely. The rest of them burst into laughter at the indignant look on Sirius’ face.

 

“Evans, after all we’ve been through today? Really?” He knelt facing her and clutched his heart. “You wound me.”

 

“You’ll live,” she deadpanned as she walked around the couch and sat on the arm of it near James’ chair.

 

Sirius sat with his back against couch, “We were laughing because Remus was telling us about how James flipped the chessboard when he beat him like an old rug.”

 

“What- That’s not - That was -”

 

“Wasn’t that two years ago?” Lily cut across James’ indignant spluttering.

 

“Exactly!” He said. “Thank you, Lily. I’ll have you know I won this year’s Christmas Chess Tournament.” 

 

Lily raised her eyebrows, “Get a prize for that?”

 

“Rubbing it in my face all year,” Remus informed her.

 

“All the prize I need,” James announced proudly.

 

“Remus gave me some lessons in Wizard’s Chess a while back, think you could  _ take me _ , James?” Lily asked, innocently enough, cocking her head to the side.

 

Remus almost gave her away by snorting. He’d never seen Lily playing chess before, let alone given her lessons.

 

“I - take you - er,” James’ cheeks turned the tiniest bit pinker. He cleared his throat, composed himself, “Of course, name the time and place, Miss Evans.”

 

She smiled, no, she  _ smirked _ at him, but didn’t answer. She didn’t look away, either.

 

After a few seconds of this, Sirius cleared his throat pointedly and James dropped his eyes. “Need a lozenge, Padfoot?”

 

“Do  _ you _ ?”

 

If possible, James glared at him harder. 

 

Suddenly, the four of them were hit by a cold breeze. They turned to see Peter standing by the open window, his wand out. “Sorry, needed some fresh air. Was anyone else feeling a bit suffocated by the se-” His voice cut out mid-word. Reading his lips, Remus was pretty sure  _ sexual tension _ was the end of his sentence. He laughed along with Sirius as James stowed his wand away, his face definitely pink now. Remus looked back at Lily, who had risen from her perch on the couch, also a bit pink in the face. 

 

“Anyway, see you guys around,” she said. Remus wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw her catch James’ eye meaningfully before she disappeared up the girl’s staircase.

 

“I’m going to kill all of you,” James said calmly as Peter shut the window and lifted the silencing charm off of himself.

 

“I didn’t do anything!” Remus laughed, which probably didn’t help his case.

 

“Yeah, exactly!” James stood and threw his hands in the air. “Aren’t you supposed to keep these two in check?”

 

“I’m off the clock on holidays, sorry mate.”

 

James ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I need new friends. Clearly.”

 

“Frank and Garrett might be taking applications,” Sirius offered.

 

James glared at him; Sirius smiled helpfully.

 

“Exploding Snap, anyone?” Peter offered, grabbing an Exploding Snap deck off a nearby table as he walked over to the group.

 

James sighed, and fell back into his seat, and then slid to the ground. “Sure, why not.”

 

Finally, Sirius caught Remus’ eye. He smiled a genuine smile. Remus found himself grinning back.

 

Peter, Sirius, and James sat in a circle as Peter dealt them each a hand. Remus stayed in his chair; Exploding Snap wasn’t really his game. Once, back back in first year when Remus had begged off a game, Sirius had asked,  _ “What, don’t like games that are no logic, all boom?” _ and though Remus would have phrased it differently, that pretty much summed it up.

 

Remus leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes as the telltale sounds of the game started up. He really was exhausted - getting up and wandering the castle at four a.m. will do that to a bloke. 

 

Exhausted. 

 

Exhausted and full and warm…

  
  


_ Remus paced back and forth in front of the plush couch that consisted of the only furniture in the room. He threw nervous glances at the door every few seconds, dreading the moment that it would open and he’d have to do what he came here to do. _

 

_ Maybe he wouldn’t show up. Maybe he’d forget and if he forgot then Remus would take it as a sign that this was the wrong thing to do and -  _

 

_ The door opened. _

 

_ Remus felt nauseated.  _

 

_ Sirius kicked the door shut behind him, smiling as he crossed the few feet between them and roughly pulled Remus into a kiss. _

 

_ Remus instinctively kissed him back, his hands finding Sirius’ waist, the small of his back, as he leaned into him. Sirius made that sound in the back of his throat that he always made when Remus kissed him and Remus shivered. _

 

_ Damnit. _

 

_ No.  _

 

_ That’s not why Remus asked him here. _

 

_ “Sirius,” Remus tried to pull away. _

 

_ “Later,” Sirius breathed, not letting Remus’ lips get far from his own. “Talk later, snog now.” _

 

_ The hand that wasn’t on the back of Remus’ neck traced over his shoulder, down his arm, tugged up the hem of his shirt. His fingers brushed Remus’ skin there and Remus considered letting it all happen. Considered not going through with what he was planning to do. He pulled Sirius closer, brought one hand to his face, kissed him soundly and tried to forget all the thoughts that led him to make the decision he’d made. _

 

_ Sirius let out a low growl that Remus felt in his chest and pulled him around and backward so that they fell over the arm of the couch and landed hard on its cushions. Remus threw a hand out to catch himself before all of his weight fell onto Sirius, and when he looked down at the boy under him, Sirius was still smiling.  _

 

_ Remus’ heart clenched painfully. He ignored it, and fisting the hand not supporting himself into Sirius’ hair, he kissed him. Hard. _

 

_ Sirius responded. Both of his hands were in Remus’ hair now. Then one was lightly running along his spine. Then it again tried to pull Remus’ shirt up. “This isn’t our usual room,” Sirius commented lightly after breaking away and arching up to kiss Remus’ neck. _

 

_ The observation brought Remus back to his senses.  _

 

_ Fuck. _

 

_ Fuckfuckfuck. _

 

_ Remus closed his eyes, let himself enjoy it for one, two, three more seconds, then pushed himself off of Sirius and stood up. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath.  _

 

_ Sirius propped up on his elbows and looked up at him, confused, “What?” He didn’t even look upset yet. His hair tousled, his shirt riding up his stomach, his grey eyes searching Remus’ face. _

 

_ Remus could forget it all. Go back to snogging. He totally could. _

 

_ He didn’t.  _

 

_ “Sirius, we can’t do this anymore.” _

 

_ Sirius stared at him. His face fell. He looked away from Remus as he slowly sat up, bring his legs off of the arm of the couch and to the floor in front of him. “What are you talking about?” he asked, meeting his eyes again. _

 

_ “I - We - This secret is too big to keep,” Remus explained. _

 

_ Sirius frowned at him, “We’ve kept it for five months, Remus, it’s been fine.” _

 

_ “Two weeks ago -” _

 

_ “For fuck’s sake,” Sirius exclaimed, dropping his head into his hands. Remus didn’t say anything. Sirius looked up again, “I forgot the Map once, okay. It was in my bag the whole time, James or Peter didn’t have it. And even if they did, and even if for some reason they were distinctly looking for us, the worst they could have noticed was that we were missing.” _

 

_ The Map.  _

 

_ The Marauder’s Map could ruin everything, and they both knew it. If they’d known what they’d become to each other, they might never have made it in the first place. Since coming back to school, they knew the Map was going to be problem.  _

 

_ So they were careful. They had rules. They always made sure that whenever they snuck away with each other that one of them had the Map so James or Peter couldn’t tell where they were, or that they were together or that they weren’t on the Map at all. They made sure that James wasn’t on patrol, because he knew the secrets of the castle as well as they did; in fact, it was best if James was holding Quidditch practice, because oftentimes Peter would go and watch. They usually met in the Room of Requirement, which they made unplottable and invisible. They didn’t act differently when the others were around. They were careful.  _

 

_ Until the one time they weren’t. _

 

_ “I know,” Remus conceded. “We got lucky, I know. But what if we don’t next time?” _

 

_ “There won’t be -” _

 

_ “You don’t know that!” _

 

_ “Bloody hell,” Sirius cursed, finally coming to his feet and walking away from where Remus stood. _

 

_ “You don’t!” Remus insisted. “All it takes is one time! One time or one mistake and…” He waited for Sirius to turn around and face him. “What, are you ready for them to know?” he shot at him.  _

 

_ “Oh, don’t say that to me,” Sirius looked insulted. “Don’t you put that on me, don’t act all high and mighty when you know full well you’d  _ never _ -” _

 

_ “Never what?” _

 

_ “Never say a goddamn thing about any of this,” he gestured the space between them. “To anyone. You’d sooner die, wouldn’t you? Fuck, you’ll barely say it to me!” _

 

_ “What do you want me to say?” Remus asked him, his anger getting the best of him. “‘Good evening James, Peter, I know it’s illegal in muggle Scotland for two men under the age of 21 to have any sort of sexual relations but I’ve been shagging Sirius since July so let’s all give a big middle finger to The Man?’” _

 

_ Sirius stared at him for a long time. “No, Remus. That’s not what I want you to say,” he finally said, so quietly that Remus barely heard him. He did, though. He even heard Sirius’ voice crack at the end.  _

 

_ It broke his fucking heart. _

 

_ “Sirius,” Remus said, almost pleadingly. “I’m a werewolf, and -” _

 

_ “No,” Sirius cut across him, looking angry again now. “Don’t you make it about that, don’t you dare. Because it’s not. It may be about a lot of things, but it’s not about that.” _

 

_ Remus didn’t argue. Because maybe Sirius was a little bit wrong, but he was mostly right. His eyes prickled and he swallowed hard, looking at the ground. _

 

_ It was so quiet he could hear Sirius’ breathing. He could hear his own heart beating. How was it still beating? _

 

_ Remus looked back up, and caught Sirius just staring at him. Sirius shook his head and looked at the back wall. He took a deep breath and then looked ahead before moving toward the door, not glancing at Remus as he passed him. _

 

_ Remus rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw spots. Why’d he say that? That’s not what this was supposed to be about. He was supposed to explain it properly; explain how he was feeling terrified and overwhelmed and not even just scared for himself anymore. He was supposed to tell Sirius that he deserved someone better than an emotionally stunted werewolf, someone whole and safe and goddamn  _ legal _. _

 

_ “For the record,” Sirius said, and Remus dropped his hands and turned to see Sirius with his hand on the doorknob, staring at it. “I don’t think they’d care. James and Peter, I mean.” He looked back at Remus and shrugged, “You always underestimate how much people care for you.” _

 

_ Remus’ vision was blurry, but he didn’t look away, didn’t blink.  _

 

_ Sirius took a another long look at him, and then turned, opened the door, and was gone.  _

  
  


Remus jerked awake, inhaling sharply. He looked around wildly, almost expecting to find himself in the Room of Requirement with Sirius having just disappeared. He wanted to run after him, tell him that Remus had fucked everything up. That he was sorry. That he didn’t know what he wanted anymore.

 

But Remus wasn’t in the Room of Requirement, he was in the Gryffindor common room and it had been seven days since he let Sirius walk away from him. His panic subsided as he slowly realized that he couldn’t do anything about what he’d done now. He noticed that the room was nearly empty - only Peter was keeping him company. The fading light outside the windows indicated that Remus had slept for at least a couple hours.

 

“You alright?” Peter mumbled sleepily from the floor in front of the fire, where he was lying on his stomach, his head resting on his arms.

 

“Yeah,” Remus told him. “Fine.”

 

“‘Kay,” Peter stretched and sat up. 

 

“Where’d the others go?” Remus asked him.

 

Peter said something unintelligible through a yawn. Remus nodded anyway. He checked his watch and saw it was nearing five in the afternoon. He stood up, feeling restless, and walked toward the dormitory. He heard Peter following him. 

 

Upon reaching the seventh years’ dormitory, he pulled another sweater over his head and grabbed his coat.

 

“Where are you going?” Peter asked him, as he fell backwards onto his bed, holding the Quaffle James had pinched from the Quidditch supply shed. 

 

“Walk,” Remus grunted, moving his wand from his pants to his wand pocket.

 

Peter tossed the ball in the air above him, caught it again. “Want company?”

 

“No,” Remus said more sharply than he meant to. He sighed, turning to look at Peter. “Sorry, Pete, I’ve just been in a mood lately. It’s not you, it’s -”

 

Peter chuckled at him, then threw the Quaffle in the air again, “We’re not breaking up, Remus, you’re going for a walk.”

 

Remus flinched, but Peter missed the look and caught the Quaffle. “I’ll help you with that Defense essay tomorrow to make up for being a git lately,” he conceded. 

 

“Help me?” Peter raised an eyebrow.

 

“Fine, you can copy mine,” Remus rolled his eyes and smiled at the blonde boy.

 

“Ah, great,” Peter grinned. “You are forgiven, go in peace!” He tossed the Quaffle again and Remus waved his wand and banished it to the other side of the room before it could drop back into Peter’s hands.

 

“You’re still a git though,” Peter called after Remus as he headed toward the door. “ _ Accio _ .”

 

Remus shut the door to the dormitory behind him, and slipped his hands into his coat pockets. He twisted the handle of his wand in circles habitually. He didn’t really have a destination in mind, just  _ away _ . He felt restless, like his blood was rushing through his veins trying to find an escape. 

 

More than that, Remus felt hot, and not just because he was presently wearing three layers. It was a heat that knotted into his stomach, curling, pulsating, and radiating out to his chest, his limbs, his head.

This heat was different than any he’d felt before. It wasn’t the warmth that he felt when Sirius grinned at him, or rested his hand on his neck as they kissed. It wasn’t the glowing feeling he felt in every pore of his body when Sirius’ bare chest was pushed against his and Remus’ face was tucked into the crook of his neck and Sirius kissed his forehead gently, slowly.

 

No. This was terrorizing heat. The heat of a fever, of melting, of burning your hand on a hot cauldron. This heat was  _ wrong _ and Remus needed to cool down.

 

His feet carried him through the corridors and down the stairs quickly. Soon after, he was pushing open the heavy doors in the Entrance Hall and slipping out into the snow.

 

Remus took a deep, cold breath that stung his lungs and beat back the heat in his chest. 

 

He looked out at the lake, at the serenity of the snow-covered grounds, and tried to sort through the thoughts bouncing around in his head.

 

Everything had come out wrong that day, hadn’t it?

 

Remus had been spinning out, panicking, for the two weeks prior to that last day of term when he ended things. Sirius had forgotten the Map and Remus had freaked out. When Sirius asked him what was wrong, Remus blamed it on the mounds and mounds of homework they’d been assigned before the end of term. While the piles of NEWT-level essays hadn’t helped, he should have said something about his building panic before it got that overwhelming. He should have talked to Sirius, trusted him. 

 

He knew he was shit at talking about his feelings. Growing up, his parents weren’t ones to talk about things. His dad looked at him, his eyes full of guilt, and his poor muggle mother watched him with a helpless sadness. They told him that they loved him, but Remus always felt stifled by that love, guilt, sadness. It wasn’t his fault that he’d been targeted by Greyback, but in the loud silence of his household, he learned shame and he learned to fold his emotions away. 

 

Additionally, Remus never really had a relationship before, with anyone of any gender. He’d snogged a few birds now and again, but he always kept them at a distance and they soon tired of his cultivated nonchalance. With Sirius, though, it was different. So different. Remus’ feelings, the intensity of it all, scared the shit out of him. 

 

For the first month or so, Remus thought he had it all under control. They were having fun, they were messing around, it was all good. But then suddenly it wasn’t just messing around anymore. 

 

It changed one night in early August, when Remus’ dad had a business trip and his mom went along with him. Sirius came over and they’d fallen asleep after, lips swollen and hearts pounding, in Remus’ bed. When Remus woke up early the next morning, Sirius’ arm was draped over his waist like it was the most natural thing in the world and his terrible morning breath tickled Remus’ neck. Remus, to his surprise, liked it. He liked it a lot.

 

Sirius had cooked them breakfast that morning, and when he left to head back to James’ place, Remus had kissed him goodbye for the first time without really thinking about it.

 

And he’d liked that too.

 

It was easy, after that, to be with Sirius as his - what, his boyfriend? Remus shuddered. They’d never really defined it, because definitions were dangerous. With no definitions and the rules of their secrecy in place, Remus found himself truly happy. 

 

And then Sirius forgot the goddamn Map and everything crashed into Remus with the force of twenty Whomping Willows. 

 

His feelings were too strong, the danger of being branded  an outsider, an untouchable, twice over was too real. What the fuck would society do with a werewolf in a gay relationship if he and Sirius were found out? Nothing good, that much was obvious. And what would happen to Sirius, who had begun to wear his heart on his sleeve when it came to Remus? 

 

So Remus had panicked.

 

And, he realized now, he never really stopped panicking, even after he broke it off. Though was he still panicking for the same reasons? Or was he scared that he messed up the best thing he’d had since his three best friends told him they didn’t care that he was a werewolf?

 

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Remus noticed that he was just outside of the Quidditch pitch, his shoes and the lower parts of his pants legs covered in snow. He dried them with his wand, then leaned against the wall behind him, closing his eyes. 

 

He stood there for a while, letting the cold air seep into his lungs, his body. He tried to make sense of the tangled thoughts in his mind. It wasn’t going too well.

 

“Remus?”

 

His eyes snapped open. In the last of the fading light, Remus saw Sirius standing not far from the door that led to the Gryffindor locker rooms. 

 

“What are you doing here?” Sirius asked.

 

Remus swallowed hard, “Nothing,” he answered. “Walking.”

 

“It’s freezing,” Sirius stated. “And there’s like four feet of snow.”

 

Remus shrugged, “I thought you liked the snow?”

 

“I do,” Sirius admitted, grinning automatically. “But you don’t.”

 

Remus shrugged again, his brain feeling sluggish. He knew he should say something to Sirius - apologize? explain? - but the words wouldn’t come. Suddenly his mind, which seconds before had been racing, was calm. 

 

He walked towards Sirius until there was only a few feet between them and leaned his left shoulder against the wall, facing him, “What are you doing here?”

 

“James got me a new footholds for my broom for Christmas - we played some 1-on-1 to try them out,” Sirius leaned his right shoulder against the wall.

 

“James is still in there?”

 

“No, he left a while ago. Gave me the keys to lock up.”

 

“Mmm,” Remus nodded. 

 

They stared at each other for a moment without saying anything. Remus could see that Sirius’ hair was wet and frozen in the cold. The idiot could have dried it with his wand in about two seconds, but Sirius was lazy about that sort of thing.

 

Remus smiled a kind of melancholy smile and studied Sirius’ face, thinking of all the times he’d held it in his hands, kissed it. His chest tightened, “I really fucked everything up, didn’t I?”

 

“Remus,” Sirius said, warningly. “Let’s not -”

 

“No, really,” Remus insisted. “I did. I panicked and I was rash and ineloquent -”

 

“You being ineloquent had nothing to do with it,” Sirius told him sharply.

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Remus sighed, frustrated, and looked away from Sirius towards the lake, trying to find the words. Sirius waited, looking a cross between angry and anxious.

 

Remus turned back to face him, “I should have told you how much you meant to me.”

 

Whatever SIrius had expected Remus to say, Remus could tell it wasn’t that. But it’s what he needed to say; it’s what he hadn’t said clearly enough or often enough in the last five months.

 

“When we were -” he paused, absentmindedly spinning the handle of his wand in his pocket again. “When I was with you, it was like nothing else mattered,” he finally said, looking directly into Sirius’ grey eyes. Sirius’ face was carefully neutral. Remus continued, “I’d never been so happy, I’ve never cared about anyone as much as I care about you, Sirius. It’s a stupid, all-encompassing kind of feeling that I didn’t know existed until you. Remember that night you spent at my place?”

 

Sirius gave him a curt nod.

 

“When I woke up the next morning and you were still there and you were breathing your stupid, terrible morning breath in my face,” Sirius let out a pained kind of laugh and Remus smiled. “I think that was one of the best mornings of my life.”

  
  


He heard Sirius take a shaky breath, and Remus took a deep breath. His mind was telling him to stop talking, to shut up about his stupid feelings because in the long run what good could come of admitting all of this? But something else was driving his words now, and he kept going, “I kissed you goodbye that morning when you left, do you remember? It felt so natural, but there was also a kind of unnatural feeling to the whole thing because, Merlin, Sirius, when you kiss me…” Remus trailed away, feeling his face grow warm even in the cold winter wind. He’d said too much. He looked at his feet, kicked at the snow.

 

“What?” Sirius prompted him gruffly.

 

Remus shook his head, “I just… I didn’t tell you enough, I think. I didn’t tell you often enough or even how very much you meant to me. You never should have had reason to doubt how much I cared.” Remus looked up at him, met his eyes. “You’re the most important thing, Sirius. The  _ most _ important. And that  _ terrifies  _ me.”

 

“I thought I was going to lose that if everyone found out. I was being selfish. I was scared to be labeled an outcast again. I was being a coward,” Remus admitted. 

 

Sirius didn’t say anything, but he didn’t look away either. Remus caught his eye and held his stare evenly, “When you kiss me, that feeling, nothing else in the world could possibly come close to that. I still don’t know if I did the right thing or not, but I sure as hell didn’t want to do it - I just thought it was best for both of us if we ended things.”

 

“What do you think now?” Sirius asked him.

 

“I don’t know,” Remus told him honestly. “But I do know that I should have told you all of this a long time ago.”

 

Sirius nodded jerkily. A beat of silence followed as they stared at each other. Then another. 

 

“Fuck it,” Sirius said, reaching his left hand out to the back of Remus’ neck and pulling Remus’ lips to his.

 

_ Fuck it _ , Remus’ mind repeated. He responded almost instantaneously. Sirius was oxygen, Sirius was water, right then Sirius was what Remus needed to survive. The last week, the last three weeks, melted away and suddenly Remus had the most important thing in his life back.

 

Remus put his hands on Sirius’ shoulders and turned Sirius roughly so that his back was flush against the wall. Remus leaned into him, pinning him as he deepened the kiss. Sirius brought his other hand to the small of Remus’ back and attempted to pull him even closer. 

 

Remus moved his hands to Sirius’ face, his thumbs under his chin, his fingers spanning his cheek. He broke the kiss, pushing Sirius’ chin up with his thumbs to allow him access to his neck. He moved one of his hands to give him access to the spot right below Sirius’ ear, and Sirius made a noise that Remus wanted to make him make again and again and again. 

 

Sirius’ hand left Remus’ neck, and a moment later Remus is hit by a burst of warm air. He broke away from Sirius to look toward the source. Sirius had opened the locker room door.

 

Taking advantage of the distraction, Sirius took control and pulled Remus into the locker room. He shut the door behind them, locked it, then spun Remus around and pinned him against it as his mouth covered Remus’ again.

 

Their teeth knocked together with the movement, but neither cared. Remus grabbed the sides of Sirius’ jacket and pulled him closer. Sirius broke away for a moment to pull it off entirely, then kissed Remus again and pulled off his jacket, too.

 

Remus felt heat spread through his entire body again, but this time he felt no need to cool down. Instead, he needed to feed it. 

 

Sirius pushed his entire body against Remus, but Remus still felt like he needed to be closer to him. He grabbed all three of the shirts Sirius was wearing and tugged them up until, with Sirius’ help, he managed to rid him of the dreadful things. Remus ran his hands down Sirius’ chest, up his back, and over his shoulders. He pulled him closer and kissed his neck, his shoulder, his collarbone. He definitely left a few marks.

 

“ _ Fuck, _ ” Sirius whispered in Remus’ ear as he worked his way back up Sirius’ neck. 

 

Remus had to remind himself to breathe. Sirius pulled Remus’ layers over his head more deftly than Remus had done, and with one hand on the wall by his head, Sirius caught Remus in another kiss, pressing his bare chest to Remus’.

 

For the life of him, Remus couldn’t think of a single reason why he tried call this relationship off before. What a dumb decision. This was _ clearly _ the right way to go about things. 

 

Then Sirius’ hands started unbuckling his belt and all rational thought completely disappeared.

  
  
  


What somehow seemed like both hours and seconds later, Remus and Sirius laid on a large cushion Sirius had conjured at some point on the locker room floor. Remus’ head was in the crook of Sirius’ arm and he lightly traced patterns on his chest as they caught their breath. A Christmas tree, a cloud, random circles and spirals.

 

Minutes ticked away, and Remus wasn’t really thinking of anything in particular when Sirius suddenly broke the silence, “My uncle died.”

 

Remus stopped his idle tracing, and propped himself up on his elbow, facing Sirius, “What?”

 

Sirius didn’t look at him. He continued staring at the ceiling, “That’s what Dumbledore wanted me for - to tell me. Apparently good ol’ Uncle Alphard left me everything he owned, which was quite a bit, actually.” He turned to look at Remus. “Guess I’ll be able to keep your present after all,” he smiled at him. “Thank you, by the way. It’s perfect. I opened it in the shower, because I didn’t think I could face it with you sitting there like everything was normal.” Remus understood. He had nearly lost it when he opened the gift Sirius had got him, and the one he’d given him was nearly as sentimental. Sirius smiled at Remus, “Don’t feel bad. Plus, James is going to be so jealous when he sees it.”

 

Remus brought his hand to Sirius’ cheek. There were a lot of things he wanted to say in that moment, but he picked the most important one, “I’m really sorry about your uncle.”

 

Sirius leaned his head into Remus’ hand, “Me too.” He took a deep breath. “He was one of the last good ones, you know? Now there’s just Andromeda left.”

 

“And you,” Remus reminded him, brushing his thumb over Sirius’ lips.

 

Sirius’ mouth twitched upwards; he kissed Remus’ finger, “I  _ am _ pretty good, aren’t I?”

 

Remus smacked his cheek lightly, “You’re ridiculous.”

 

Sirius opened his mouth but Remus cut him off, “If you say, ‘no, I’m Sirius,’ I’m leaving right this instant.” 

 

Sirius laughed. “Fine, fine, I won’t,” he wrapped his arms around Remus and pulled him off his elbow and back into the crook of Sirius’ arm. Remus gave in with a sigh, and laid his head on Sirius’ chest, wrapping his arm around his chest and holding him tight.

 

“Thank you for the leather case,” Remus said after a minute. “I couldn’t say anything in front of the others because I was afraid I’d get emotional and all, but it really means a lot.”

 

“I stand by what I said,” Sirius told him. “You’re going to be a great teacher one day.”

 

Remus thought it unlikely, but he didn’t say that. He just nodded into Sirius’ chest.

 

“Speaking of the others getting emotional,” Sirius said, and Remus could tell he was smiling. “James would be bloody  _ livid _ if he ever found out what we just did in his precious Quidditch locker room.”

 

Remus laughed aloud at that, “He’d never forgive us!”

 

“I really can’t join the team now,” Sirius laughed. Remus heard it in his chest and smiled wider. “I’d never be able to sit in here and listen to James talk strategy knowing what happened over there by the lockers.”

 

“Or here on the floor, for that matter.”

 

“True.”

 

Smiling, they fell back into an easy silence. But now that the subject of the others had been breached, Remus knew he wasn’t the only one thinking about what came next for them. The lighthearted mood slowly trickled away.

 

“As much as I hate to say this, and I _ really  _ fucking hate to say it,” Sirius finally said, minutes later. Remus could tell that he was trying hard to make sure all of his words come out right. “I think that you were right about some of the things you said the other day.”

 

Remus didn’t have to ask what day Sirius is talking about, the tightening in his chest was proof that he already knew. Remus slowly pulled away from Sirius, and sat up. He grabbed his underwear, which was near the cushion and pulled it on. He felt Sirius doing the same. This wasn’t a conversation that should happen when they were both naked.

 

“Which part?” Remus asked, as he tried to keep his breathing steady.

 

“About this being too big a secret to keep,” Sirius said, sitting with his arms draped across his bent knees. “And about me not being ready for it to get out.”

 

Remus nodded, but couldn’t seem to come up with anything to say. Ever since he’d said those things, he’d been wondering if he meant them. With Sirius sitting across from him in only his boxers, he was as confused as ever.

 

“It’s got nothing to do with you,” Sirius assured him. He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just…” He trailed off, but Remus picked up the end of his thought. The end that neither of them wanted to say.

 

“We shouldn’t be together if neither of us is willing or ready to tell anyone about it.” When he said it aloud, he knew it was true. But that didn’t make acting on it any easier; it didn’t make him want Sirius any less.

 

“Yeah,” Sirius whispered back, swallowing hard.

 

“Yeah,” Remus agreed. His chest was aching again, but it was manageable this time. It had to be.

 

“Fuck, this sucks,” Sirius said, loudly, like he was mad at the whole world for handing them this impossible situation. Remus understood the feeling. Sirius and looked up at the ceiling; Remus could tell he was willing himself not to cry, and it made Remus’ eyes water.

 

“I’m glad we did it though,” Remus told him honestly. Sirius at him and pulled his eyebrows up and smirked at him the tiniest bit. Remus laughed, “Well, yeah, today too. But I  _ meant _ that I’m glad we did whatever it was we’ve been doing these last five months. I’m glad you and I happened even though this is the bloody worst right now.”

 

Sirius smiled at him, “Me too.”

 

They looked at each other for a few seconds in silence, taking everything in before they had to get up, get dressed, and leave. Because once that happens, it’s really over.

 

“I’m sorry I’ve been a bit terrible to you lately,” Sirius finally said. “I think I was angry at the whole situation, but it was easier to just be angry with you.” 

 

“Well, I kind of deserved it,” Remus admitted. 

 

Sirius shrugged, smiling apologetically, “Maybe a bit.” 

 

Remus gave him a small smile before turning serious again. He looked imploringly at the beautiful boy across from him, “We can get back to being friends again, right?” Remus voiced his true fear about all of this. “Because I don’t think I can stand it if we’re always tense and awkward with each other.”

 

Sirius took a long look at him and then, coming forward on his knees, he pulled Remus into a long, slow kiss. It wasn’t like the kisses they’d had earlier in the day. This wasn’t lust, this was the other thing. The thing Remus couldn’t even think about right now with regards to Sirius because it would break him apart. Remus’ cheeks were wet as he brought his hands up and held Sirius’ face to his for the last time. He wasn’t even sure which one of them was crying.

 

When Sirius finally pulled away, they both wiped at their faces, half-embarrassed. Sirius looked at Remus, “Yeah, friends. From here on out.”

 

“Damnit, this is going to be hard,” Remus stated the obvious, his voice huskier than usual.

 

Sirius nodded as he stood up and made his way to his jeans, which were discarded over by the door. “Yeah, but we’ll get there.”

 

Remus stood and followed suit, tracking his pants to a spot near the lockers. “How are you so sure?”

 

“Because it’s the only option that I can live with.”

 

Remus pulled on his pants and turned back to find Sirius looking at him, “Same here,” Remus told him.

 

They dressed quickly and in silence, for which Remus was grateful. If they talked about it much more, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to go through with this. He knew they were one lapse in self-control away from falling back onto the conjured cushion and having to break up all over again. 

 

When they had both pulled on their coats and Sirius had vanished the cushion, Sirius turned to Remus, “Check the map and see who’s patrolling. I know it’s not James, but it might be Evans and somehow she’s almost harder to sneak past than James is.”

 

Nodding, Remus reached into his pocket and found that it was empty. He tried his other pocket, “Shit.” It wasn’t there. He tried his coat pockets, and when they were empty, checked his pants again.

 

“It’s not here,” Remus said, starting to panic. “How the fuck is it not here? I had it!” His heart rate accelerated so fast it made him lightheaded.

 

“You always have it!” Sirius looked nearly as panicked as Remus felt. He was right, too. Ever since the time that Sirius had forgotten the map, Remus had taken to carrying it everywhere with him, only parting with it when explicitly asked. It’d become a such a force of habit that he continued doing so even after that first horrible attempt at breaking up.

 

“I know!” Remus answered. “I was sure I put it in my pocket!” 

 

“Think!” demanded Sirius.

 

“I’m trying!” Remus shut his eyes and thought back. He knew he definitely had it this morning when he woke up on the Astronomy Tower. He remembered checking the sweatpants it was in after he changed clothes this morning and finding the map still in the pocket. Did he take it out and put it in the pocket of his current pants? He thought so, but he could be wrong.

 

“I must have left it in the sweatpants I was wearing this morning,” Remus told Sirius, opening his eyes.

 

“Fuck,” Sirius cursed. “What do you think the chances are that it’s still there?”

 

“Dunno,” Remus said, knowing the color had drained from his face. 

 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Sirius didn’t sound sure at all. “Let’s just go check and if it’s not there we can make something up. It’s not that suspicious for us to be in the Quidditch locker room.”

 

Remus checked his watch, “For three hours?!”

 

“Fuck, okay, I guess that’s a bit suspicious.”

 

“Let’s just go, we’ll figure it out if we have to,” Remus said, and unlocked the door. He felt restless again, he needed to see how bad the situation was.

 

“Yeah, okay” Sirius answered. He looked as pale as Remus figured he did.

 

They sped through the grounds, and took a shortcut through a hidden entrance into the castle. Without James’ cloak or the Map, they had to peek around every corner before they rounded it to make sure they were alone; yet, even with that slowing them down, they made it to the Fat Lady in record time.

 

The practically yelled the password at her, and clamored through the portrait hole and up the steps to their dormitory. It was thankfully empty. Remus crossed to his trunk and pulled his sweatpants out. He heard the crinkle of parchment even before he saw the Map sticking out a few centimeters from the pocket. 

 

“It’s here,” the relief in his voice was obvious. 

 

“Thank bloody Merlin,” Sirius sank onto his bed, sounding exhausted. Remus crossed and sat next to him with the Map, making sure that they were far enough away not to touch. 

 

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he muttered, tapping the parchment with his wand. The normal greeting appeared, giving him a great sense of satisfaction just as it always did, and soon the map of Hogwarts was drawing itself, ink spreading from the middle of the parchment to the edges. “Where are the other two, anyway?” He asked, searching the Map.

 

“There!” Sirius pointed, and in the Head’s office, two dots labeled “Lily Evans” and “James Potter” appeared side by side against the door.

 

“They aren’t Dick Distance, are they?” Remus asked, astounded. ‘Dick Distance’ was a term coined by Sirius when they were first making the map. He would often say that when two students’ dots were very close to each other in a broom closet or concealed alcove that the two were were ‘Dick Distance Apart.’ The other three of them had groaned every time he used the phrase and yet, somehow, it had stuck and become their awful code for ‘hooking up.’

 

Sirius laughed, “I don’t think so, it looks like both of them are sitting or standing up against the door... but they sure are close.”

 

“Go Prongs,” Remus said, smiling.

 

“Oh, c’mon Remus,” Sirius started. “You know this had been coming on for a while. Those ‘Head Meetings’ they have every week or so have been lasting for hours lately and he’s always giddy when he gets back.”

 

Remus shrugged, “True, but you can’t ever be sure with those two.”

 

“Maybe,” Sirius allowed. “You know what he got her for Christmas, though? Sneaky bastard even asked his parents for help.”

 

“Yeah,” Remus grinned. “Merlin, we’re never going to hear the end of it if they finally get together, are we?”

 

“Fuck, I hadn’t thought of that,” Sirius groaned, falling backwards to lie on the bed.

 

Remus laughed and looked back at the two dots. As he stared at them, he couldn’t help but be a little jealous. Remus and Sirius had just called it quits because it was too risky, too dangerous, too scary to think about anyone finding out, and here James was with nothing to fear from telling everyone about his night, about the object of his fancy. 

 

But still.

 

James and Lily.

 

He was happy for them. It  _ had  _ been a long time coming.

 

“Where’s Peter?” Sirius asked quietly and a quick glance at his face told Remus that Sirius was trying to distract himself from similar thoughts. 

 

Remus scanned the Map, “Kitchens.”

 

Sirius sat up and took off his jacket, “Perfect, I’m starving.” He threw it on his bed behind him and stood up.

 

“Me too,” Remus agreed. “I’ll leave the Map here in case James comes back soon.”

 

“If he does, I’ll kick his idiot arse.”

 

Remus laughed, but wiped the Map and left it on James’ bed anyway. He threw his own jacket on his bed and together he and Sirius left the dormitory. As he followed Sirius down the stairs, he took a deep breath and allowed himself to be hopeful - maybe the two of them really could make it back to ‘just friends’ now that they’d talked it all through. Now that all the feelings and reasons were out in the open.

 

He sure hoped so. 

 

And, ten minutes later, Remus couldn’t help but be optimistic about their chances as he sat at one of the long tables in the kitchen laughing and stuffing his face with Peter and Sirius. He had to admit that, despite the dismal way that it had started, it hadn’t been such a bad Christmas after all.

 


	3. Chapter Two: James Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to everyone who read and "kudos'd" and commented on the last chapter! i hope you enjoy this one :)

**Chapter Two: James Potter**

 

 

James Potter found himself ripped violently out of sleep on the morning of Christmas 1977 and at first he wasn’t exactly sure why. His eyes shot open and he felt as if something was very wrong, right off the bat.

 

_Then_ he heard the tearing of wrapping paper and he nearly fell out of his bed as he turned to rip open his curtains so violently that they threatened to come down around him for what would not be the first (or tenth, for that matter) time.

 

“I _know_ you’re not opening presents right now,” James growled. He was always annoyed that he couldn’t pull off the growling thing as well as Sirius or Remus, but now was not the time to be disappointed about that. He reached to his bedside table for his glasses and pushed them roughly onto his face.

 

Sirius, in the bed next to his, came into focus and had the good sense to look ashamed for a second before recovering, “Thanks for the new footholds, we should go out and play later today so we can try out our gifts.”

 

James was momentarily disarmed from his annoyance and anger with Sirius. “Oh, yeah, well you needed them - yours were falling apart,” he shrugged. “Can’t have you falling off your broom before I _murder you for breaking tradition_.”

 

_Bring it back around nice and easy, good job James!_ He congratulated himself.

 

Sirius, less impressed than James was with his subtle jab, rolled his eyes.

 

“No, but seriously, what the fuck?” James asked him from his bed, swinging his legs towards Sirius so that they dangled off the sides. “You’ve been snapping at everyone lately, and more than that you know how important traditions are to me -”

 

“Quidditch later then, yeah?” Sirius talked over him. He frowned at him. Sirius had been off-kilter lately, and when Sirius was off-kilter it always threw James off _and_ on top of that something was definitely up with Remus because he’d been leaving the dormitory in the middle of the night again.

 

James shot a look towards the bed across from his and noticed that, as he expected, Remus wasn’t there.

 

“I was thinking after Christmas dinner, but not right after because that’d be miserable.” Sirius continued, ignoring James completely now and ripping into another one of his presents. James turned his gaze to the end of Sirius’ bed and saw that the pile there was smaller than it had been in previous years, which he guessed was to be expected. It was one thing to send presents to a family member who disgraced the House of Slytherin, it was another to send them to one who disgraced the House of Black itself.

 

Still, James didn’t think that his lack of presents was what had him in a foul mood lately. _That’s it_ , he thought. _I’m getting to the bottom of this._

 

“Can you lot shut up, I’m trying to sleep until at least noon,” James heard Peter tell them irritably.

 

“C’mon Wormtail,” Sirius responded with happiness that didn’t touch his eyes. “It’s bloody Christmas!” He finished opening his gift. It was a fur-lined hat; Sirius put it on and smiled a bit wider.

 

“Are you opening gifts?” Peter asked, and James saw that he’d opened his curtains to look at Sirius.

 

“Thanks for the hat,” Sirius answered him. “I feel like I should probably be against fur clothing given, you know, our circumstances, but I find it rather comforting.”

 

James shook his head incredulously. Something was very wrong with Sirius, and not only because he spend a good part of his time as a large dog yet still enjoyed fur-lined clothes.

 

“What, so fuck tradition then?” Peter climbed out of bed and started crossing the room.

 

“If you’re Sirius,” James said, very annoyed all over again, and waved his wand to make his quaffle fly from the end of his own bed and hit Sirius in the face. Years of being James’ best friend perfected Sirius’ reflexes enough that he managed to catch the ball. He spun it on his middle finger, smirking at James, just to spite him.

 

James was just entertaining the idea of hanging Sirius from the ceiling until he told them what giant rod was shoved up his arse when Peter called, “Have you guys seen this?” from the window between Remus’ empty bed and the loo door.

 

James got out of his bed and walked to join Peter at the window that was nearly exactly across the room from his bed. He heard Sirius crossing the room to look out of the window between Peter and Remus’ bed.

 

Hogwarts was covered in a thick blanket of snow. It was early enough that no one had yet disturbed it as far as James could tell. He watched as an owl or two swept near their tower, likely heading towards the owlery.

 

Merlin, he was going to miss this place when he graduated.

 

“Wow,” Peter breathed.

 

“Yeah,” James answered him. He heard his voice amplified by Sirius’ same response.

 

“I love the snow,” Sirius started. “The sky always matches-”

 

“-your eyes and the ice matches your soul,” James finished for him, rolling his eyes. He was still pretty pissed at Sirius for a number of small grievances. “We get it, you’re self-deprecating and introspective, you don’t have to tell us every time it snows.”

 

James turned his attention back to the grounds. _Seriously though, if I hear Sirius say that damn phrase one more time -_

 

His thoughts were interrupted by a quaffle to the head. It bounced off and rolled under Remus’ nearby four poster and Peter chuckled, turning to use the loo.

 

“Oh, open your gift before you get all Righteous with me,” Sirius told him as the door shut behind Peter.

 

“Not until Remus gets back,” James told him. Hell, Sirius might not care about their traditions anymore, but traditions were always important to James growing up. His parents were older and all of his grandparents died before he was old enough to remember them, so his family history was full of memories that James would only ever hear about secondhand. He had learned to respect traditions and the memories they held from a young age, and he thought that Sirius understood that. He came from a pureblood family too. Maybe his traditions weren’t as great as James’ had been growing up, but the ones they made together at Hogwarts with Remus and Peter… those were great.

 

Well, James thought so at least.

 

Sirius didn’t say anything, just walked back over to his bed and sorted through his few still unopened gifts. James followed him, walking over to his own bed to examine the gifts that were piled at the end of it. He saw a couple from his parents, one from each of the Marauders, a couple from his other relatives, one each from Peter and Remus’ parents, and… his breath caught in his chest.

 

Towards the bottom was a small, neatly wrapped gift with a brief message written in gold script in the middle:

 

_If they ask, you didn’t get this from me._

_-LJE_

 

Lily had gotten him a gift. He felt his heartbeat in his temples, his mind racing with curiosity. He glanced over at Sirius, and saw he was occupied opening another gift. He quickly picked up Lily’s gift and, to not draw attention to himself, he walked toward his bedside table as nonchalantly as possible before swiftly shoving Lily’s gift under his pillow.

 

He ran his hand through his hair, turning to look at Sirius again. He felt lightheaded; Lily has gotten him a gift, for the first time ever. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about it, but he’d been careful not to expect it. His recent closeness with Lily still felt too good to be true, to continue.

 

He wanted to talk to Sirius about it, but the last few times he’d tried, Sirius had been sullen, and on one occasion had even snapped at him and practically ran from the room. James knew it was only because Sirius was clearly dealing with his own shit, but it still stung a bit.

 

To put a bit of space between him and Lily’s gift, James decided to use the loo and wash his face before Remus got back. He did the former, and as he waited for the water to warm in the faucet for the latter, he started at himself in the mirror.

 

James knew that he’d never been ugly, but lately he’d grown into his features more. His chin seemed to fit his face better, and his ears weren’t as prominent as they had been when he was younger. But, at the same time, his nose was a little long for the rest of his face. There was a scar that bisected his left eyebrow from the time in fifth year when he’d been hit by a bludger mid-quidditch game and had haphazardly healed it himself rather than stop the game (Madam Pomfrey had been furious), and another scar right under his chin that he’d gotten during a Full Moon excursion. His glasses sat crookedly on his face.

 

Still, it wasn’t a bad face to have. Though, James truly only cared if it was nice enough for one person in particular. And James’ brown eyes weren’t nearly as amazing as her green ones were.

 

_What was in that present?_

 

Shaking those thoughts from his head, he set about washing his face.

 

He heard Peter ask Sirius why he’d started opening gifts as he finished, and grabbed a towel to dry his face as he exited the loo. “Sirius decided he hates us, apparently,” James deadpanned as he threw the towel onto his bed.

 

James missed Sirius’ look as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it hard in his best mate’s direction. Sirius swatted it away with a hand, “I don’t hate you, I just -”

 

The door opened, and James turned to see Remus standing in the doorway. For a moment everyone was silent.

 

Then Frank and Garrett went back to their conversation and Remus took a few steps toward the Marauders.

 

“Another early morning walk?” James asked pointedly. “You okay, mate?”

 

James watched as Remus wrestled with his answer. Just when he opened his mouth, he caught sight of Sirius’ bed and shut it again, furrowing his brows. James saw Sirius look down at his duvet and refuse to meet Remus’ eyes. James nearly groaned in frustration as he took in the mounting tension between the two of them. He was _definitely_ figuring this shit out today. Enough was enough.

 

James took his eyes off Sirius, and met Remus’ eyes. He saw the sadness behind the mask Remus was so good at hiding behind, but didn’t say anything when Remus pulled on a smile and shot a wrapping paper ball at Sirius.

 

“Well, I would’ve stuck around if I knew you lot would start without me,” he managed to get out.

 

James tried to catch Remus’ eyes again to see if he could read anything else there, but Remus seemed resolved to ignore him.

 

“Padfoot’s apparently a five year old boy when it comes to Christmas presents - no patience,” Peter chuckled, shaking James out of his thoughts.

 

His irritation at the present _present_ situation returned. “Can’t even keep up a tradition for a lousy seven years,” James muttered, rolling his eyes.

 

“Traditions are just rules wrapped in pretty colors,” Sirius shot back at his mate, and James was aware of something flying at his head out of the corner of his eye. James reached up and snatched it out of the air and Sirius shook his head a bit as he continued, “They deserve to be broken now and again.”

 

“Whatever,” James was over it. If Sirius wanted to piss all over their traditions, he could do so on his own. Throwing himself onto his four poster, James picked through his presents and pulled the three he wanted from his pile towards him. “I’m still going to open in order.”

 

James looked up at Remus and Peter and tilted his head, questioning.

 

He watched Peter shrug, push himself off the wall and start rummaging through his pile of gifts. As James lifted each of the three presents in turn, he was vaguely aware of Remus throwing his outer layers on his own bed across from James’ and collapsing onto Peter’s with his presents.

 

When all of them were seated, James snuck a look at Sirius, expecting/hoping to see some remorse there, but instead he saw Sirius holding a green envelope gingerly and staring over at Remus. Remus appeared to take a deep breath.

 

“Sirius’ gifts first then, the git,” Peter cut open their moment and James looked to see the chubby boy holding up a gift.

 

“Sure,” Remus shrugged and pulled one of his presents into his lap.

 

James nodded along and picked a lumpy, badly-wrapped gift out of the three. He ripped open the paper and saw the most beautiful pair of quidditch gloves he’d ever seen.

 

They were made of supple brown leather and would run up to his elbows. From wrist to elbow, there was a layer of padding that James could tell would give him protection, but not hinder his ability to catch or throw the quaffle. The gloves would allow the last joint of his finger to be free for grasping and control, and the palm and lower joint of the finger had a swatch of coarser material to help with his grip when palming the quaffle or throwing it. There was a small amount of padding at the top of the hand, but not enough to limit his wrist’s range of motion.

 

They were a far cry above his current, worn-through gloves with thick padding. They must be a new design because James hadn’t seen them anywhere and, well, if they were more than a month or two old his obsession with the sport dictated that he would have.

 

They also must have cost Sirius way more than he should be spending on anyone given he’d been cut off from his family’s fortune.

 

“Sirius, these are way too much,” James said in amazement, still running his hand over the top of them. He tried to convince himself to tell Sirius to take them back, but they were _so bloody perfect._ “I really should demand that you take these back,” he voiced his thoughts.

 

When he heard no response from his friend, he looked away from his gloves and saw that Sirius was staring intently at Remus, who was staring at his lap at his own present from Sirius that was currently hidden from James by the wrapping paper.

 

“Thanks, Sirius!” Peter grinned happily, throwing his unwrapped gift behind him on his bed.

 

“Oh, yeah, no problem, Pete,” Sirius shot him a grin.

 

James opened his mouth again, “Sirius, I -”

 

“Shut up, James,” Sirius turned to him. “And before you say anything, I’m not taking them back.”

 

James decided not to point out that he had already said something, “These are perfect.”

 

“I know,” Sirius grinned at him. A real grin, this time. “I didn’t do manual labor all summer to buy you a shitty Christmas present.”

 

James grinned back at him, “I don’t know how ‘manual’ that labor was.”

 

Sirius waved a hand at him, “Those muggles we were working for thought it was. I told you you’d want to go out later and play some quidditch so we can try it all out.”

 

James didn’t argue either point. The muggles in the fancy houses near the Potter Manor had paid them to do various gardening and outdoor labor during the previous summer. It wasn’t a bad gig; they were both seventeen by that point. They’d pretend to haul things around whenever the muggles were around and then pull out their wands when they were out of sight, finish the work, and relax for another hour or so before collecting their payment.

 

“James’ next!” Peter called out.

 

“I wanna open one, let’s do Peter’s,” James shot back. “Your tiebreak, Moony.”

 

Remus didn’t look up from his lap.

 

They waited. James sighed, “Let’s just do Moony’s now since he’s lost in his head.”

 

Peter nodded and Remus finally came out of his trance long enough to give James what looked like an odd convulsion. James decided to take it as consent.

 

Remus, as usual, had gotten James and Peter each books. When James asked Sirius which book he’d gotten from Remus, Sirius muttered something unintelligible and quickly bit into a chocolate frog. While this wasn’t terribly uncharacteristic behavior, it still grated on James’ nerves. James thanked Remus for his book - one on advanced animagus transformations and tricks - and set it down beside his new gloves.

 

Peter’s gift was a box of his favorite Zonko’s products. He smirked over at the chubby boy and saluted him. Peter laughed, and nodded back at him.

 

As Head Boy, it was less than ideal for him to be seen stocking up on prank necessities, so he greatly appreciated Peter’s thoughtfulness. Some of the loot would be perfect for a not-so-subtle prank he was planning to execute on the next Slytherin to use the word ‘mudblood,’ regardless of if he’d have to apologize profusely to Lily afterwards.

 

They opened the rest of their gifts, chatting easily about what they received and telling each other to thank their respective parents for the gifts they had sent each of the boys.

 

James’ fingers were itching to grab Lily’s gift and tear into it, but he didn’t want Sirius to give him a _look_ or Peter to raise his eyebrows suggestively. In fact, James decided that Remus was the only one he was currently willing to share his anxiousness with. He’d been Lily’s friend even when James wasn’t, and he felt like Remus would be the most understanding.

 

He had just put away most of his new possessions back into his trunk, when Sirius hopped off of his bed and stretched his arms into the air, his joints popping. Remus started vanishing their piles and piles of wrapping paper, and James fell backward onto his bed, stretching his own arms over his head to grab the other side of his bed.

 

“Well, good haul this year, considering,” Sirius sighed as he let his arms drop. “I’m going to take a shower, gotta look my best for Christmas dinner and all.”

 

Peter mumbled something that James didn’t quite catch as he responded to Sirius, “Thank Merlin, you smell like old socks.”

 

Seconds later, he was hit hard in the face by something soft and incredibly foul smelling. He jerked into a seat position, gagging, as he pulled the offended object from his face. It was Sirius’ favorite sleeping shirt, “For fuck’s sake Padfoot, what do you have against letting the damned House Elves wash your clothes once a century?” He cried, offended.

 

He caught Sirius’ sarcastic salute, then heard the door to the loo close with a snap.

 

James tossed Sirius’ shirt to the floor near his bed, feeling a bit like he needed to wash his face all over again. When he noticed that Peter and Sirius were both gone, however, his mind went Lily’s gift and he looked purposefully at Remus.

 

Remus raised his eyebrows at him, and James looked back to check one last time that they were alone before he reached under his pillow and grabbed the gift he’d hidden there.

 

He held it up for Remus to see before dropping it back in his lap, “I didn’t want to open this in front of Sirius.” James shifted, feeling a bit guilty. “He’s been in a shit mood lately, I’m sure you’ve noticed.” James shot a sympathetic look at Remus, but didn’t mention that Remus had also been acting weird too. Remus nodded, a pained expression on his face.

 

“He’s been particularly weird about -” James stopped, feeling awkward and vulnerable. “This is from Lily,” he rephrased, picking up the gift again to show him.

 

 

Remus smiled vaguely and walked over to sit by James. “How’s that going?” he nodded at the gift.

 

James felt his face heating and shrugged, “We work together well.”

 

He saw Remus shoot him a look out of the corner of his eye, and laughed. “Fine, fine, it’s going well, I think. We’ve been, er, spending a lot of time together.” He ran his empty hand through his hair nervously.

 

It was true, though. They had been spending more and more time together. James had noticed that Lily had started hanging around after their meetings ended, sitting on the table next to him as James tried to come up with things to do with the papers in front of him that didn’t make it _too_ obvious that he was trying to drag out his time with Lily.

 

And, even then, after a few minutes of solid, believable paper-shuffling, James would give up pretense completely; he’d stretch out in the seat in front of the spot Lily sat on the table, swinging her legs idly sometimes letting them brush against his knees sending little bursts of electricity up his spine.

 

Pulling his thoughts from those happy hours back to the present, he muttered, “It’s probably something stupid.” He didn’t want to get his hopes up.

 

“Won’t know until you open it,” Remus told him aptly.

 

“You know,” James admitted after a moment of silence, “This is the first time she’s gotten me anything at all.”

 

Remus smiled at him genuinely. “Well, I’ve heard you work well together,” he parroted back at him.

 

James laughed and turned his attention to the gift in his lap. He pulled at the wrapping paper, and found an elegant box inside.

 

“Maybe she got you a pretty necklace,” Remus half-laughed.

 

James ignored him and opened the box. The gift was covered by a small bit of parchment with a note on it.

 

 

_James,_

_I didn’t touch it first, so it will only know your hand, which is fitting._

_Lily_

 

 

James furrowed his brows, more confused and curious, and lifted the note. Underneath was a shiny golden snitch. James’ breath caught and he carefully picked it up. Engraved across the middle of the snitch was “Property of the Arrogant, Bullying Toerag.” His face broke into a grin that threatened to swallow his entire face.

 

_It was only mid-November but the castle was so cold that evening that the ever-present water flooding from Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom was turned to slush. James and Lily carefully picked their way around it as they took the long way through the castle after their monthly Head’s Meeting with Professor Dumbledore._

_As they walked in a comfortable silence, James shoved his hands into the pockets of his robes and snuck a glance at Lily. She had her half of hair pulled back from her face and twisted into a plait that rested at the back of her head while the rest of it fell over her scarf and shoulders in soft waves. Freckles dotted her pink nose, and she had an contented expression on her face that warmed his chest. James could see her breath cloud in front of her face, swirling in the air around her as she walked through it, making her look otherworldly._

_She turned her head, her green eyes sliding to his face without her happy expression changing. James flushed at being caught staring and looked away quickly._

_Had he imagined it, or did her lips just twitch up a bit?_

_He fidgeted with a sickle that he’d left in his pocket and tried to think of something clever to say. Imaginary tumbleweeds danced across the emptiness in his mind. Goddamnit._

_He resisted the urge to run his hand through his hair, contenting himself with just shaking his hair out of his face as Sirius often did. He looked up from the floor and to his right again. Lily was staring at the wall nearest her, and as he watched, she slowed and then stopped. She turned her back to him, examining something on the wall in front of her._

_James looked around and blinked in surprise - without his realizing, they had wandered to the quidditch corridor. Near the trophy room, the walls in this corridor were plastered with pictures of the quidditch team who had won the Quidditch Cup each year. The pictures had started in the trophy room hundreds of years ago, and after taking up an entire wall had flooded out into the corridor._

_James was usually always hyper-aware when he was near this corridor. It might be a tad conceited of him, but he very much enjoyed looking at the most recent picture of the Cup winners - the one of the team he’d captained to victory._

_“What?” James said, taking a step back toward Lily so that he was standing behind her and could see what she was looking at._

_“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever looked at these,” she told him, sounding amused. James looked at the wall over her shoulder and saw she was gazing at the picture above the one of his team. The one of the team he’d helped to victory during his fifth year, before he was captain. He felt his cheeks get hot, and had no idea why._

_“Merlin, you look awful,” she muttered, moving closer and squinting at the picture of his fifth year team._

_“What?” James squawked. He cleared this throat. “I mean, damn Evans, give a bloke a break. I’d just played a match that lasted four hours! I’d had to suture my own eyebrow together on the fly, you can’t possibly blame me for -”_

_He broke off when Lily’s tinkling laugh reached his ear. She turned her head back to look at him, and he was distracted by the way her hair moved like silk over her shoulder to fall down her back. And then by the proximity of her face to his._

_“No, not like that,” she laughed again, her eyes sparkling. She turned back and pointed at Fifth Year James, who was spinning the quaffle in his free hand before smirking at the camera and lifting the Cup in his other hand. “You were insufferable that year.”_

_Slightly reassured that Lily didn’t find him horribly unattractive, James leaned forward to peer closer at this younger self. Fifth Year James handed the quaffle to the player next to him, ran his hand through his hair, and winked._

_Real James groaned, “Okay, you’re_ maybe _not_ entirely _wrong.”_

_They watched as Gryffindor’s Seeker, a kid named Abbott, let go of the snitch he’d still been holding. It zoomed around the photo as Fifth Year James somewhat reluctantly handed him the Quidditch Cup and Abbott lifted it in the air triumphantly. Photo James snatched the snitch out of the air and pocketed it._

_“I’d forgotten I had that!” Real James grinned. He reached out over Lily’s shoulder and ran a thumb over the picture to rid it of a smudge. “That snitch never worked properly for me because I wasn’t the first to touch it,” he explained. “I think it flew away one night while I slept, trying to find Abbott.” He dropped his hand to his side._

_Lily turned away from the picture to face him, laughing, “Thank God for that!”_

_“What’s that mean?” James asked, trying not to focus on the fact their faces were again only inches apart._

_“Nothing,” she shook her head and started walking again._

_“Evaaaaans?” James whined, following her._

_Lily let him catch up and then stopped and looked at him. He stopped too, his hands back in his pockets as her eyes trailed over his hair, his face, his mouth. James swallowed hard. Finally, she grinned at him, “You’ve just changed from that arrogant, bullying toerag you used to be.” She shrugged. “I’m glad.”_

_“Arrogant, bullying toerag?” James repeated, his eyebrows shooting into his hair. “C’mon, Evans, that’s a little harsh.”_

_She raised a single eyebrow at him and crossed her arms over her chest. “You walked around showing off with that stupid snitch and jinxing anyone who annoyed you for the rest of the year!”_

_James paused, remembering a few instances that fell under the umbrella she’d described. He remembered another few where she’d yelled insults at him, too._

_“Okay, maybe I was a bit arrogant, but you were no better about the bullying,” he pointed out._

_Her mouth dropped open in shock, “Excuse me?” she narrowed her eyes. “I never bullied anyone, Potter, and -”_

_“I seem to recall you calling me a wide variety of very nasty names, actually,” James said mildly._

_“You’ve got to be joking,” she deadpanned. James gave her a look._

_“It’s not bullying if you deserved it,” she said darkly._

_“That was always my excuse, but you didn’t like it much when I used it,” James raised his brows and tilted his head. Lily opened her mouth to retort, but closed it again._

_James sighed, shrugged, and then ran a hand through his hair absentmindedly, “You were right to call me out - I was definitely a bit of a prat - but you could’ve been a little nicer, too.”_

_Lily stared at him, some emotion James couldn’t name flickering in her eyes._

_“You’re right,” she finally said. “I’m sorry.”_

_James’ mouth twitched into a smile, “And I’m sorry I was an arrogant, bullying toerag,” he told her. “That’s not what you think of me anymore, is it?”_

_“Only sometimes,” she said, giving him a smile that let him know she was joking._

_James grinned back at her and rolled his eyes. When he met her gaze again, he looked at her more seriously and Lily raised her eyebrows at him. “You’d say we’re friends, right Evans?”_

_She didn’t say anything in the time it took James’ heart to hammer against his chest one, two, three times. She just looked at him, reading him, and then, “Lily.”_

_“What?”_

_“My friends call me Lily, James,” she said softly, stepping forward and brushing hair out of his eyes so quickly that he wasn’t sure if it actually happened._

_She stepped back and grinned at him, her cheeks a bit pink, before turning to continue down the corridor. He followed her, trying desperately to remember how to breathe._

“What?” Remus’ question brought him back to reality.

 

James turned the snitch in his fingers so Remus could read it. Remus frowned, “Well, that’s not very nice of her.”

 

“No, no,” James laughed. “It’s a joke. Well, kind of. It’s a running gag between us... Don’t worry, Moony, it’s a brilliant gift.”

 

James could tell that Remus didn’t understand as he shrugged and stood up, but he didn’t care. He smiled back down at his gift, feeling like his chest was expanding with warm sunlight or a million dragonflies or something equally nauseating. Lily really cared about him, didn’t she? She had clearly put a lot of thought into this gift, and it probably didn’t come cheap either. Maybe he wasn’t reading too much into things lately, after all.

 

He took a deep breath to steady himself. No. He needed to keep realistic expectations. If he got his hopes up and then everything went to shit, he didn’t know if he could handle it. Not with this. Not with her.

 

James put the snitch back in its case and quickly pulled off his pajamas and on a pair of jeans. He immediately moved the snitch to his pocket. It felt warm there. He tried to wipe the smile off of his face. It didn’t work.

 

James was pulling a sweatshirt on when he heard the door open. He turned and yanked the sweatshirt over his head with less care than usual, sending his glasses falling to the floor. He picked them up and saw Frank Longbottom’s head in the doorway.

 

“Sirius still in here?” he asked.

 

“Er - he’s in the shower,” James told him. “Why?”

 

“Got a message for him from Dumbledore,” Frank answered. He opened the door further and walked in.

 

“Dumbledore? What’s it say?” Remus asked from across the room.

 

Frank threw him an exasperated look, “Don’t know, didn’t open it.”

 

“Right,” Remus said.

 

“I’ll give it to him,” James stepped forward, both curious and nervous, and held out his hand. Not including his Head Meetings with the headmaster, Dumbledore had only ever asked to see one of the Marauders when they had been caught doing something stupid.

 

Frank hesitated, seeming to weigh his options, then walked to hand it over, “Yeah, alright. Thanks.”

 

James nodded at Frank as he left, then looked down at the little scroll in his hand. He looked up and met Remus’ stare.

 

“No clue,” James told him honestly. He wondered if Remus felt anxiety creeping into his veins, too.

 

Not long after, Sirius emerged from the showers in a cloud of steam with a towel around his waist and his sweatpants draped over an arm. James caught his eye and waved the scroll at him. Sirius raised and eyebrow, and took the note.

 

James held his breath as Sirius’ eyes scanned the parchment.

 

“He wants me to meet him in his office ‘at my earliest convenience,’” Sirius murmured, confused.

 

“What’d you do?” The words tumbled out of James’ mouth before he could stop them.

 

“Ugh, you sound like Moony,” Sirius rolled his eyes at him and threw his sweatpants and the note onto his bed. Just over six years of being Sirius’ best mate allowed James to see right through the unconcerned tone he used.  “I didn’t do anything,” Sirius’ words were muffled a bit as he dug through his trunk. “At least not as far as I can remember.” He pulled out a pair of mostly clean jeans and shook them out before pausing, “Mighta locked Peeves in a suit of armor the other day, but let’s face it, that’s first year shit.”

 

“What does he want then?” James asked, exasperated and slightly annoyed, not taking his eyes off his best mate. Had Sirius done something dumb and that’s why he was acting so weird lately?

 

“If I knew, I’d tell you,” Sirius grumbled, tugging on a pair of boxers and then his jeans. If Sirius didn’t drop his recently acquired attitude soon, James was going to lose his mind. Sirius turned, looking thoughtful, “Maybe he wants to make me Quidditch captain after your team nearly lost to Hufflepuff before break.”

 

James scowled at him, “You’d have to be on the team for that - wanna try out?” He’d been trying to get Sirius on the goddamn team since he became captain back in fifth year.

 

“And take orders from you? Pass.”

 

James wished again that he could growl as well as Sirius or Remus. He huffed, “Technically, you already do because I’m -”

 

“If you say Head Boy, I’m going to hex you in the face,” Sirius turned and looked at James in a way that told him he wasn’t joking. James glared back t him and wondered, not for the first time, if it was bad manners to hit your best mate if they _really_ deserved it.

 

“Quit flirting,” Peter entered the dormitory dramatically and let another puff of steam in. “What’s this I hear about Dumbledore summoning us?”

 

“Not us, him,” James thumbed at Sirius over his shoulder, still scowling, and turned around to find the mince pie his mother sent him for Christmas.

 

As James turned, he heard a loud _thump_ beside him and he instantly spun back around to find Sirius kneeling on the floor and vigorously digging through his trunk. He shot him a confused look before gazing over at Remus who was bright pink and looking out of the window.

 

James narrowed his eyes. Straightening up, he watched Remus pick up a pair of his sweatpants and dig through the pocket. Remus pulled out the Marauder’s Map and stuck it the back pocket of his jeans.

 

_Interesting._

 

Remus had been hoarding the Map religiously. In fact, if James remembered correctly, the last time he’d even laid hands on the Map was near the end of term when he’d _accio’d_ it from Siruis’ bag to check on a Prefect he’d suspected of going AWOL on his rounds (he had, by the way, and Lily was _livid_ ). Oddly enough, he’d been unable to find Remus or Sirius on the map at all that night. He hadn’t thought much of it then, he’d rather been distracted by the Very Angry Head Girl, but now...

 

A plan, a Brilliant Plan, formed in James’ mind and he grinned. Scooping up the pie, he turned to Remus, “Moony, you up for a game of chess and some pie while Sirius gets expelled or some shit?” James saw Sirius nonchalantly give him the finger out of the corner of his eye and ignored him.

 

Remus looked up at him and shrugged, “Depends, are you going to flip the board if I beat you again?”

 

“That was one time! Two years ago!” James huffed indignantly as his no-good-best-friends laughed. “I was having a bad day, okay? Merlin, I hate you all.” He began to regret his plan, all of three seconds into Phase One.

 

Remus smiled at James and it almost calmed him down, “I know.”

 

Remus dropped the sweatpants he’d been holding into his trunk and dug through it until he emerged with his bag of chess pieces. James grabbed the pie his mother had sent Remus - because these chess games always lasted forever, and they were growing boys - and followed Remus down to the common room.

 

 

 

 

James lost the first game against Remus in spectacular fashion. It was sad, honestly.

 

(But he didn’t flip the table.)

 

(Because he’s mature.)

 

( _And_ that was one time.)

 

( _Two years ago!_ )

 

Truly, James would have been thoroughly embarrassed, only he had a lot on his mind.

 

First, there was Lily. And yeah, okay, there’s _always_ Lily, but his new snitch was sitting in his pocket all warm and shit and James had to concentrate really hard to keep from pulling it out to look at it every three seconds. His unreliable hand kept twitching to his side to do so, but he knew that Remus, and then Peter when he joined them, would give him endless amounts of shit and he just wasn’t in the mood for that yet.

 

Also regarding Lily Evans, there was the fact that it was still relatively early for Christmas morning, and he hadn’t seen her leave the common room since they’d been there. Had she gotten his gift? Did she like it? Was she going to do as he suggested? Did she already leave her dormitory? Did she think he overstepped his role and now hated him again and was currently in her dormitory plotting his demise?

 

Really, James thought anything was possible. There was simply nothing to do about it except keep shooting furtive glances at the staircase to the girl’s dormitory in hopes that the dark staircase would share its secrets and quit spitting out every girl in Gryffindor besides Lily Evans. 

 

And then, secondly, there was Sirius, who wandered past him and Remus and out of the portrait hole at the start of the chess game. The stupid prat had gone and gotten himself summoned to Dumbledore’s office _without him_ , something that had certainly never happened before. James’ rather creative mind wouldn’t stop producing different ways that it could play out, each worse than the last. He couldn’t help from wondering if whatever Dumbledore needed Sirius for was related to the foul mood he’d been in the last week or so. And, on top of all of that, there was the simple fact that James didn’t know _what_ had been bothering Sirius in the first place, and since when did they keep secrets from each other?

  
Thirdly (or perhaps 2(b)-edly) there was Remus, who had also been in a shitty mood for about a week but who _hadn’t_ been summoned to Dumbledore’s office. James had known Remus for six and a half years now, and had only ever known him to reliably disappear in the early mornings two other times, and both happened when they were fifteen. The first was when he’d been staying at Potter Manor with Sirius and Peter for a few days before the start of their fifth year and he’d been trying to work up the courage to tell them that he’d been made a prefect. The second was when their first attempt to become animaguses failed and Peter ended up in the hospital wing with minor injuries.

 

Even with all of that, James only knew that around the time term ended something happened to put both Sirius and Remus in terrible moods, and now Remus was wondering the castle at four in the morning every morning and Sirius was headed to Dumbledore’s office. And though James had tried to convince many a professor of the bountiful coincidences that made up the world they lived in ( _“Of course I didn’t lock several bowtruckles in the Slytherin keeper’s Quidditch locker, Professor McGonagall, these scratches are from something else entirely!”_ ), he wasn’t entirely sure he believed in them himself.

 

So, yeah, James lost the first game against Remus in spectacular fashion.

 

The game had taken the better part of an hour, though, only _some_ of which involved Remus’ six remaining pieces chasing down James’ king. Peter’s snickering and the raised eyebrows of the sixth years who had been watching the game and were surprised by how thoroughly his pieces had been battered, served as a proper wake-up call. Determined, when the next game started it took only six moves and two slices of pie before James had three separate strategies to checkmate Remus in ten moves or less.

 

Poor Remus had clearly been lulled into a false sense of security by his previous win. Bless him.

 

 

It actually took him twelve moves, though; Remus took one of James’ bishops in a move James tried to declare illegal when he missed the trap’s setup. Peter, the de facto referee, gave him a thumbs down so he dropped it.

 

They had gathered another audience as they set the board for their third game, and Peter chatted easily with a few of the fifth year girls who were asking him about the rules of the game. James smirked at his friend, proud even if they were young and only vaguely attractive.

 

Peter and Sirius had never been much for playing wizard chess. Peter liked to watch and tease whomever was losing even though he was notoriously bad at playing the game himself. Sirius, however, had never had the patience for it… until this past summer, that is. Sirius had asked James to play the game with him nearly every day after they did their “landscaping” over the summer. James had complied, and had helped Sirius improve his game, but when he asked his mate why he suddenly cared for the game, Sirius had only shrugged and told him not to tell Remus about it.

 

The way Sirius had asked, he made it seem as though he didn’t want to get called out by their werewolf friend after years of teasing Remus’ more nerd-like tendencies, but now James wasn’t entirely sure that that was the real reason.

 

While James pondered this, their game had progressed and the student audience had dispersed, leaving only he, Remus, and Peter in the common room. James saw a path to victory in the game, and decided that it was time to begin Phase Two of his Brilliant Plan.

 

“So,” James said, after moving his knight to E7. “What’s been going on with you lately, Moony? You’ve been gone more mornings than not since break started. You only ever disappear like that when something’s eating you up.”

 

Remus started, and met James’ eyes so fast James almost missed it. Remus looked back at the board for a few seconds before looking around common room. James watched him and waited.

 

Finally, Remus shrugged, “Castle to A4.” His castle set to pulverizing one of James’ pawns, and Remus looked up at James. He seemed to take a deep breath. “It’s nothing, just been feeling restless.”

 

James narrowed his eyes slightly as Remus sniffed and scratched absentmindedly behind his ear. That was his Tell, the dirty little liar.

 

“Time of the month again?” Peter shot over the back of the chair he’d draped himself on.

 

“That’s not for another two and a half weeks, Wormtail,” James snapped, probably too harshly. He was sick of all the bloody secrets within the goddamn Marauders. He looked down to examine the board. Remus had moved his pieces into James’ two-sided attack just as James had expected he would. One of Remus’ only weak points in chess was that he forgot to mind corner of the board nearest him; since he’d noticed it last year, James had exploited this weakness to beat Remus reliably.

 

James would tell him about it one day, he was sure. For now, he was quite enjoying the frustrated look on his mate’s face. _Welcome to the damn party, Remus._

 

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Peter huffed. “I was just asking.”

 

“It’s a pretty regular schedule, you’d think you would’ve picked up on it by now.”

 

“James,” Remus chided softly. James looked up and caught his eye. He looked tired and worn down. Guilt twisted a bit in James’ stomach. He shouldn’t take his annoyance out on Peter.

 

“Sorry,” he muttered to Peter. “Queen to A4, check.”

 

Remus swore.

 

James tried again, “Look, Remus, I know -”

 

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” Remus said shortly.

_Well, at least he wasn’t lying anymore,_ James thought, but he pursed his lips and dropped the inquisition. He’d just have to wait until Phase Three of his plan to see if James’ intuition was right. He finished the game in five moves, not in the mood to show mercy if Remus wasn’t going to engage.

 

“Remus, do you want to do the customary board flip, or can I?” Peter asked, feigning great excitement.

 

Remus laughed - a little forced, James thought. James gave Peter the finger.

 

“Good game, mate,” Remus smiled at him.

 

James nodded, finding a smile. “You too, as always.” James sighed to himself, and waved his wand to magic his chess set back into their bag.

 

“Wanna head down to dinner?” James asked as he closed his bag. “I’m starved.” He picked up the two empty pie plates and leaned back in his chair, aiming them into the fire. He let them fly and they soared into the fireplace bang on. James smiled to himself, pleased.

 

Peter clapped softly, rather like the Queen might, and Remus rolled his eyes at the whole display.

 

“Yeah, I could go for some turkey,” Remus said, standing.

 

_Phase Two! Now or never!_ James’ mind shouted at him as he watched Remus stretch his arms over his head. The Marauder’s Map peaked out of his back pocket and James reacted quickly.

 

He stuck his left foot inside the leg of his chair and stood up to the left fast, purposefully tripping towards Remus. Remus made a surprised noise, moving to catch him as James braced himself against Remus’ waist to stop himself from hitting the floor. In the midst of all the falling and catching, James deftly pulled the Map out of Remus’ back pocket with the fingertips of his right hand.

 

He heard Peter snort as Remus helped him up.  “How you’re the most graceful of us, _Prongs,_ I’ll never know,” he laughed.

 

James scowled and considered showing them the Map he’d just filched undetected to prove exactly how graceful he was. He didn’t, though, and focused instead on shoving the Map in his pocket as he straightened up. He quickly grabbed his chess bag off the table as Remus looked at him, “He’s got a point.”

 

James made a show of shoving his chess pieces in his pocket, forcing the Map down further and out of sight. He hoped they hadn’t heard the crinkling noise it made. He shot Peter an annoyed look, “Shut it, at least I can’t be stepped on, _Wormtail_.”

 

“Okay, Hagrid’s feet are huge and Sirius had bucked me off his back - that was _not_ my fault!”

 

“Eh, point James. Tie score,” Remus announced.

 

James shoved his shoulder lightly, “Git.” He picked up the chess board and Remus’ bag of pieces. “I’ll run the set back upstairs.” He turned and swiftly walked to the staircase. As soon as he was out of sight, he _ran_.

 

He didn’t know how often Remus was accustomed to checking the Map, and was determined not to leave him unsupervised long enough for him to realize it was missing until he’d had an opportunity to examine it while Remus and Sirius were roaming the castle without him or Peter. He had a hunch he needed to confirm, and with Phase Two complete and Phase Three looking good for after Christmas dinner, James thought his Brilliant Plan was going rather swimmingly.

 

He didn’t know what he’d do if somehow his hunch was right, but that was a train of thought for another hour.

 

Along those lines, he really hoped Sirius hadn’t gotten himself expelled.

 

He dashed into the seventh year dorm, threw the chess board and bags in the correct places, shoved the Map under his pillow (thought briefly of how he probably needed a better hiding spot, just in general) and sprinted back down the stairs, calling the first insult his mind came up with in case Remus was considering checking the now-missing-from-his-pocket-Map.

 

“If I’d known how easy it’d be to beat you today, Moony, I might’ve asked Peter to play me for more of a challenge.”

 

“If I’d known you only wanted your arse kissed, I’d have let you play him,” Remus shot back at him as he tumbled into the common room and tried not to look winded.

 

“Right, I need better mates,” Peter huffed, scowling, as they headed for the portrait hole.

 

“Aw, Wormtail, you know teasing is the only way Prongs knows how to show affection,” Remus told him, a comment that James didn’t think was entirely fair given he’d been ribbing Peter too.

 

“Oh, so that’s why Evans hasn’t agreed to date him yet,” Peter mused.

 

James smacked them both around the head as they climbed into the corridor, which did nothing to stop their laughter at his expense.

 

 

 

The Great Hall was more crowded than James remembered it being during previous Christmases. He thought wistfully that it was a shame he was Head Boy now, because a solid Christmas prank would have a wider audience this year. Head Boyship notwithstanding, he wasn’t ruling it out - maybe a good prank was what Sirius and Remus needed to sort out whatever it was that was going on.

 

James, Remus, and Peter stumbled into the Great Hall, their eyes all scanning it for their missing piece.

 

He heard Remus let out a relieved sigh, and a second later, James saw him too. He was halfway down the table piling Too Much Food onto his plate with an expression that fell somewhere between distressed and pensive.

 

Remus started for Sirius first, and James and Peter quickly followed.

 

“You’re still here!” James announced happily, clapping a hand onto Sirius’ shoulder and falling onto the bench beside him.

 

“Looks like we’ll have to bribe Dumbledore with more galleons next time if we really want to get rid of him, mates,” Peter fell onto the bench across from them, next to Remus.

 

“Shame, I’d been saving for ages,” Remus grabbed a plate, not looking at Sirius.

 

“You’re all hilarious,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes. “Really, keep it up, I can’t breathe for laughing.”

 

James frowned as he reached over Sirius to grab a plate in a display of table manners that would have earned him a stinging hex if he were at home.

 

“Were you in with Dumbledore this whole time?” he asked as he piled potatoes, his favorite food group, onto his plate. And then, to lighten the mood, he tacked on, “I kicked Moony’s ass in Wizard’s chess, you missed it!”

 

James saw a flash of something green bounce off of his glasses and narrowed his eyes at Remus, who was scowling unconvincingly.

 

Sirius lifted a shoulder, “Ran into Evans on the way here,” he said evenly. “She said she liked your gift, Prongs.”

 

James’ stomach did a rather impressive cartwheel and his eyes widened as he looked at his best mate for signs of deception, “She did?”

 

“Yep,” Sirius popped his ‘p.’ “We were walking in together but then we ran into -”

 

James turned to look down the table for Lily as Peter asked, “Who?”

 

“Actually, wait, I ran into Evans on the fourth floor right by that mirror that conceals the passage to Hogsmeade - she can’t know about that, right?”

 

James snapped his head back around to look at Sirius so fast he nearly gave himself a cramp, “What?” he said, his voice an octave too high. He corrected it, hoping no one noticed. “Nah, she couldn’t,” he lied through his damn teeth.

 

He had most definitely told Lily about that passage.

 

However, he was less than enthusiastic about the other Marauders finding out that he’d divulged this secret to her. They might start asking what other secrets she’d wiled out of him and that wasn’t a conversation James was particularly keen to have with them at the moment. Perhaps ever.

 

Because, honestly, if they ever found out that he told her about the Map and that for the last month he and Lily had remained curled up by the fire in the Meeting Room with the Map laid carefully in front of them in lieu of going out and doing their patrols properly… well, James was rather fond of keeping all of his parts attached to his body, thank you very much.

 

James’ heartbeat calmed enough that he could return to the conversation just as Sirius waved a fork at Peter, saying, “Moony’s got a point there.”

 

“Three-way tie then,” James nodded absentmindedly as he went back to scanning the table for Lily. “But she definitely said she liked my gift? Did she say anything else?”

 

Sirius didn’t answer him, but he didn’t much care. Lily wasn’t in the Great Hall. Where had Sirius said she’d gotten to, again?

 

“But, c’mon, what’d Dumbledore want,” Peter asked, pulling James back to the present crisis: Sirius’ mysterious summons.

 

“Yeah, you were gone for hours,” James studied Sirius’ face. “Everything okay?”

 

“Peachy,” Sirius answered, not looking up from his plate.

 

“Sirius,” James started, annoyed at this stupid secrecy between them that seemed to have popped up sometime around mid-December.

 

“James,” Sirius said, dragging his eyes to James’ face for the first time.

 

“Was it bad? Did you do something stupid?” James worried at him.

 

“When have I ever done anything…” he stopped, looking at what James assumed were identical disbelieving looks on all of their faces. “Well, fair, but no, it wasn’t really about me and I definitely don’t want to get into it right now. The only thing I want to get into is this turkey and maybe another bird later tonight, if you catch my drift.”

 

James couldn’t help it, he laughed aloud at. He thought about the Map hidden under his pillow and his hunch about what it would show him later, and he laughed hard at Sirius trying to deflect their questions by implying _that_. If the Map showed Sirius snogging some chick later today, James would eat his antlers.

 

“Prongs,” Remus said suddenly, nodding at the door to the Great Hall.

 

Breath caught in his throat, James turned to look and felt his face break into a grin when Lily stormed through it. He barely had time to register the expression on her face when Severus Bloody Snape stomped through behind her looking as greasy and ill-tempered as ever. James’ grin slid off his face.

 

“Wonder what that was about,” James tried to keep his voice even, his disdain hidden. He guessed he didn’t quite manage it.

 

“Maybe she liked his present too,” he heard Sirius mutter quietly beside him. James forced himself to swallow around the lump in his throat. His eyes followed Snape to the Slytherin table, even though he tried to tell them to look away.

 

As Snape sat down, the Slytherin looked over his shoulder and his beady black eyes met James’ brown ones. A look of pure, mutual hatred passed between them. James forgot to breathe as anger rose in him, hot and consuming. _The fuck is he doing with Lily?_

 

Snape broke eye contact first, turning back to face Mulciber as he said something from across the Slytherin table.

 

James felt his heartbeat in his temples as he drew in a deep breath, and slowly relaxed the death grip he had on his fork.

 

“Hey, sorry, mate,” Sirius said softly, nudging him with a pointy elbow. “I shouldn’t’ve snapped at you. Lily really did sound really keen on you.”

 

James grinned at Sirius and nodded. Underneath it all, these were the moments that made up their familiar brotherhood - snappy comments and apologies, pranks and retaliation, laughing until there were tears in their eyes and choking on sobs in the quiet of the dorm when no one else was around, James and Sirius, Padfoot and Prongs.

 

 

 

Almost too full to form coherent thoughts and complete sentences, James tripped into the common room after his three mates.

 

“Dibs,” Remus grunted, waving his wand lazily. Peter yelped and jumped up from Remus’ favorite armchair by the fire.

 

“You can’t call dibs if I’m already there!” Peter pouted.

 

“Just did,” Remus shrugged, loping over and falling into the chair. “Worth it,” he sighed, briefly closing his eyes.

 

“Fuck off,” Peter threw at him, collapsing onto the couch as Sirius spun around and fell over the back of it landing with his knees over the back of the couch and his back on the cushions.

 

James sunk into the chair across from Remus, “You gotta be more assertive, Wormtail.”

 

Unable to resist temptation any longer, James dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out the warm ball of metal that had been burning a hole into his thigh all afternoon. He opened his hand and watched in wonder as the wings unfurled and it took off.

 

He snatched it back with a grin before it got too far.

 

“Sweet Circe, I thought you lost that bloody thing,” Sirius eyes stared out over his forehead to look at James in disbelief.

 

“Different snitch,” James smirked at him. “Got it for Christmas.”

 

“Fuck, who hates me enough to give you a new snitch for Christmas?” Sirius marveled and Remus and Peter chuckled.

 

James, who had a sneaking suspicion that Sirius was not as innocent as he claimed to be with regard to the ‘loss’ of his first snitch, said nothing and let the tiny ball go again.

 

“C’mon, it’s not that bad,” Peter said. James felt his eyes on him as he snatched it out of the air with his left hand.

 

“You’re right, it’s worse,” Remus said, throwing a look at James that plainly said _‘show off.’_ James rolled his eyes at him in response.

 

“Just because it tickles you silly to watch him pretend he’ll let it get away 300 times a day doesn’t mean it’s not bloody irritating for the rest of us,” Sirius rolled his head to the left to look at Peter disapprovingly. Peter showed him his middle finger.

 

“Give him a break,” James said, twitching his foot so the top of his toes tapped the snitch and it zoomed into his hand in a rather impressive show of coordination, if he dare say so himself. He looked up at his mates, not quite able to hide his smirk, “I _am_ rather talented when it comes to -”

 

The portrait hole opened and James’ head jerked towards it in anticipation. For once, it paid off, and he saw a flash of deep auburn hair as the portrait swung inward. He grabbed the snitch out of the air faster than he had done before and leaned back into the armchair trying to exude an air of nonchalance.

 

Lily materialized in the common room with Alice, a kind and round-faced sixth year. He saw Sirius pull himself up to look over the back of the couch out of the corner of his eye and before James could reach his wand to silence him, Sirius grinned wickedly, “Well that’s interesting.”

 

“ _ShutuprightnoworI’llkillyouinyoursleep_ ,” James quickly hissed at him under his breath.

 

Sirius barked out a short laugh and returned his hands to the back of his head, relaxing back onto the cushions.

 

“What’s so funny?” Lily asked, breaking away from Alice and walking over towards James. James’ palms felt sweaty, why were they sweaty? Had they always been this _sweaty_?

 

Lily stopped behind the couch and swiftly grabbed the back of Sirius’ legs and used them to flip him backwards off of the couch and onto the floor. James laughed, his eyes crinkling as he smiled at Lily, a pleasant fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach.

 

“Evans, after all we’ve been through today? Really?” Sirius righted himself, kneeling facing her and clutching his heart. “You wound me.”

 

“You’ll live,” Lily told him flatly. She walked around the couch and dropped onto the arm of James’ chair. James’ arm itched to wrap around her waist and hold her there, but he internally yelled at it until it decided to listen and stay put. Her foot was grazing his leg and her arm was inches from his and he could smell that warm cinnamon smell he associated with her.

 

While proximity to Lily had always caused him to go a little hot under the collar, he honestly had quite a good handle on things until the day that term ended. That was the last time he’d been this close to Lily and...

 

Well, anyway, apparently now he was regressing back to thirteen-year-old-James. He focused hard on what his mates were saying.

 

“We were laughing because Remus was telling us about how James flipped the chessboard when he beat him like an old rug,” Sirius was on the floor now, leaning against the couch, and spouting dirty lies to tarnish James’ good name.

 

“What! That’s not - That was -”

 

“Wasn’t that two years ago?” Lily cut in, defending James’ honor. James felt the hot rush of blood to his face that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

 

“Exactly!” He managed to say, surprised by how normal his voice sounded when his body was rebelling against him due to its proximity to Lily Bloody Evans and her delightful cinnamony warmth. “Thank you, Lily. I’ll have you know I won this year’s Christmas Chess Tournament.”

 

Lily raised her eyebrows at him. “Get a prize for that?”

 

“Rubbing it in my face all year,” Remus told her, sounding a bit bitter.

 

“All the prize I need,” James told them, grinning. _Learn to mind all the corners of the board, dearest Moony_.

 

“Remus gave me some lessons in Wizard’s chess a while back,” Lily turned to look at James, tilting her head.  “Think you can _take me_ , James?”

 

James’ mouth went dry. He promptly forgot how to do that thing where your fill your lungs with air - what was that called again? He was dragged back to that day, that memory, of the last day of term.

 

 

_It was long after supper and James was in the room they held their Prefect’s Meetings in making the schedules for next term. He’d already finished all of the paperwork allotted to him by Lily in their division of labor, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to get a head start on next term’s work._

_Generally, James wasn’t fond of working late on a Friday night when there weren’t classes or substantial Head Duties for a fortnight, but it was currently a better place to be than his dormitory or the Gryffindor common room._

_Something was wrong with his mates. Moony had been missing since classes finished at three that afternoon and Sirius was in a downright terrifying mood tonight, storming around the dorm so pointedly that he’d accidentally set off a powerful magical breeze in the room. It had blown all the spare parchment in sight down the stairs. James had walked in to find Peter yelling at Sirius to calm down before he destroyed everything in the dormitory._

_Sirius glared at James when he asked what was wrong. James had turned to Peter, who shook his head. James asked Peter where Remus was, and when Peter made an offhanded comment about Moony pulling a chick, Sirius had growled loudly and stomped into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him._

_Peter had retreated down to the common room to play Exploding Snap with Frank and Garrett and James had come here for some peace and quiet, without Sirius’ temper, Moony’s somehow loud vacancy, or exploding card games._

_James sighed, pulling closer a note from the sixth year Hufflepuff prefect that told him when her Gobstones Club met and when the House’s quidditch practices were going to be._

_He turned his attention back to the timetable and added the practices to the parchment with his wand. The changes made a name,_ Dorothy Mulaney _, turn from black to red. Bugger, now he’d have to change her patrol times to accommodate the practice._

_He did so, and then added the Gobstones Club to the parchment at the appropriate time with an amused snort. Who the fuck was even in the Gobstones Club?_

_James’ mouth dropped open as four separate names turned red on the sheet. The fuck?_

_“That was your Gobstones Club snort, wasn’t it?” said an amused voice from the doorway. James startled, nearly upsetting his ink bottle, and swore under his breath. His glasses slid down his nose as he righted the bottle._

_He looked up and saw Lily standing at the door, her face twinkling in entertainment._

_“Merlin, woman, announce yourself,” James told her and her answering laugh did nothing to calm his accelerated heart rate._

_“What would you have me do?” Lily asked him, standing from her lean on the side of the doorframe and walking down the long table to where he sat at the head of it._

_“I dunno, cough or knock or something,” James told her, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms as he leaned back in the chair._

_“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lily said. Her tone suggested she would do no such thing._

_James felt, rather than saw, her jump up onto the table beside the papers he had strewn around him. Her foot reached out and nudged his thigh as she braced herself on the edge of his chair, sliding back onto the table properly._

_“What’re you doing here?” she asked, and James heard her pick up a few of the papers. He dropped his hands and, though she was maybe three feet from his face, he could only make out the blurry colors of her._

_“Schedules for next term,” James told her._

_“Why?” she asked him, shocked. James wished he could see more than the blurry outline of her face. He loved the face she made when he surprised her by going above and beyond in his Head Duties. If he was being truthful, that face was at least eighty percent of why he made such a good Head Boy._

_He’d deny thinking himself one, though, if asked in front of his mates. He’d also never admit that he liked being Head Boy; they’d never let him live it down._

_“Sirius is summoning witchwind in the dormitory and I didn’t want to deal with the sound of Exploding Snap in the common room,” James explained. “What about you? What brings you here at this hour?”_

_“Witchwind is a myth,” Lily corrected him reflexively, not answering his question. He heard the papers drop back to the table and watched as her outline picked something else off the table._

_“Yeah, I’d thought so too,” James muttered darkly. He watched as Lily’s blurry hands went to her face._

_“Bloody hell, James, you’re blind,” she exclaimed._

_“Did you put on my glasses?” James chuckled, leaning forward in his chair and squinting to try and see._

_“How do I look?” she asked him, flipping her hair off her shoulder dramatically._

_“Hmmm,” James said, a chuckle laced into the syllable. He slowly leaned forward and grabbed the end of the reddish blur that was hung around her neck. His hand closed around the tie and he pulled Lily gently toward him until their faces were only inches apart. For practical purposes only, of course. He_ was _rather blind._

_Her face came into focus at this distance, and he took in the pink curves of her lips, the freckles that dotted her nose, and then looked into her eyes, the twin emeralds staring back at him wide and magnified._

_“Beautiful,” he whispered daringly, and he heard her breath catch._

_They looked at each other for the space of two more heartbeats, Lily’s eyes somewhat crossed from trying to see through the strong prescription lenses. “What are you going to do about that,  Potter?” Lily asked, her words breathy and quiet._

_James raised an eyebrow, surprised and amused and dizzy all at the same time. “Well, Evans, I’m going to_ take you _,” he said, pulling lightly on the tie again so she leaned even closer to him. She smelled like cinnamon and heat.  “And -”_

_“Sirius grabbed his broom and your cloak, I think he’s going to try to -” Peter barreled into the room, before stopping suddenly, mouth open. James and Lily jerked apart. James hit the back of his chair so violently that it pushed back a few inches. He had a strong desire to curse Wormtail into the next millennia._

 

_“And_ that _is why I wear those ridiculous Quidditch goggles,” James (somehow) recovered first, and leaned forward to gently tug his glasses back from Lily’s face. “I’m blinder than a hinkypunk in wandlight.”_

_He stood, pushing them on, and grabbed his wand from the table. He waved it carelessly and the papers shuffled into a neat pile._

_“C’mon, Wormtail,” he said, heavily, walking towards him at the door. “Let’s go make sure Padfoot doesn’t kill himself.”_

_He paused at the door, turning to look back at Lily, who was watching him with an expression James could have sworn looked breathless. “Later, Lils.” he grinned at her, not his cocky one, but his genuine one._

_Then stepped out and followed Peter down the corridor, a definitively stupider look on his face._

 

 

 

“I - take you - er,” James knew he looked like an idiot, but honestly how dare she sit this close to him, smirking, and making comments that very much insinuated that she wanted James to snog her.

 

That’s what was happening, right?

 

He wasn’t going completely mad, right?

 

_Fuck._

 

He cleared his throat, aware that they were all looking at him, “Of course, name the time and place, Miss Evans.”

 

_Please, Merlin, name a time and place and I will be there. After locking all of my mates in a closet so that they cannot interrupt us. And then I will snog you silly. And then I’ll probably explode or something._

Lily held his gaze, with that goddamn delectable smirk on her face, and her eyes telling him that he wasn’t going mad, that this _was_ what was happening.

 

_Merlin. Help. Me._

 

Sirius suddenly cleared his throat, loudly and obnoxiously.

 

James turned to glare at him, “Need a lozenge, Padfoot?”

 

“Do _you_?”

 

James began to alphabetically list jinxes in his head that he’d like to use on Sirius next time he could catch him unaware.

 

James got all the way to ‘g’ before he felt a cold breeze on the back of his neck. He turned and saw Peter standing by the window with his wand lazily pointed at it, “Sorry, needed some fresh air. Was anyone else feeling a bit suffocated by the se-”

 

James pulled his wand out of his pocket with lightning speed and threw a silencing charm at Peter before he could further embarrass him.

 

There was nothing else for it, James would have to kill the lot of them.

 

As James slipped his wand back into his pocket and Sirius and Remus laughed at his expense, Lily stood up and stepped away from the chair.

 

Bloody hell, he was honestly going to murder his best mates. Maybe Lily would come and visit him in Azkaban.

 

“Anyway, see you guys around,” Lily said, and James noticed that her cheeks were tinged pink. She caught his eye. With a twitch of her eyebrows and a slight upward curve of her lips, she seemed to say _see you later_ before she disappeared up the girl’s staircase.

 

James’ face still felt a bit warm as he turned to look at his friends, “I’m going to kill all of you.”

 

It was only fair that he warned them. They were his best mates, after all.

 

“I didn’t do anything!” protested Remus, though there was a laugh hidden in his words that undermined them.

 

“Yeah, exactly,” James shot back at him. “Aren’t you supposed to keep these two in check?”

 

Remus leaned back with a shrug, “I’m off the clock on holidays, sorry mate.”

 

James’ hand raked through his hair. “I need new friends. Clearly.” He said, repeating Peter’s sentiment from earlier in the day.

 

“Frank and Garrett might be taking applications,” Sirius offered helpfully.

 

James shot him a look. Sirius smiled at him. _Arsehole._

 

“Exploding Snap, anyone?” Peter offered, after closing the window and un-silencing himself.

 

James sighed, falling back into his armchair. He slid forward until he fell onto the ground, “Sure, why not.” He was going to do his damnest to make sure neither Sirius nor Peter had eyebrows when this game was through.

 

Peter dropped onto the floor with his back to the fire and began dealing three hands, knowing that Remus would sit the game out. James wasn’t a huge fan of the game either, but he would play it sparingly. And it was a truly great way to ‘accidentally’ maim his good-for-nothing friends.

 

As they settled into the pattern of the game, James’ mind wondered idly back to Lily, as it often did. She hadn’t seemed like she hated him today, despite the rather intrusive letter he’d sent along with her present. He’d take that as a good sign. He hoped that she’d taken his advice - which looked likely, considering where Sirius had run into her.

 

He also hoped that he would run into her later (preferably, alone). He hadn’t really spent much time with her since that day that they’d almost kissed - a fact that, at times, made him feel like someone was bringing a cheese grater to his nerves. He supposed he had gotten used to the hours they spent together in that Meeting Room, either when they were skiving off patrols in favor of watching the Map for students out of bed or after their meetings with prefects when James would come up with endless ways to prolong the conversation and Lily would allow herself to be kept there, talking to him.

 

It was during these conversations that he’d learned that her sister was getting married on New Year’s Eve, and that Lily had decided to stay at Hogwarts over break due to a huge fight that had broken out over owl post. Lily had looked so sad, sitting against the wall with her shoulder just touching his, as she explained all about her sister, her family. How she was in equal parts angry at her sister and terrified for the safety of her muggle family without her. How she wished she had some way to protect them always, even when she was away.

 

James was pulled from his thoughts by a brilliant opportunity, and two cards later was rewarded when he shifted back just in time and the cards exploded violently, catching Sirius’ and Peter’s eyebrows in a spectacular fashion.

 

Half an hour into the game, Sirius threw his cards into the center, “I’m bored of this, let’s go down to the pitch.” He turned his head to look at James, who shrugged and tossed in his cards as well.

 

Peter tossed his cards on top and fell back, stretching in front of the fireplace like a cat, “I’ll stay here, I think. It’s bloody freezing out there and I feel a food coma coming on.”

 

“Suit yourself,” Sirius told him, standing up and sneaking a glance at Remus, who had fallen asleep in his armchair. His head had fallen onto his shoulder, his hair sticking up at odd angles against the back of his chair. He had a rather pained expression on his sleeping face. Sirius frowned at him.

 

Suddenly remembering Phase Three of the Brilliant Plan, James considered his options. He couldn’t very well leave Remus here unsupervised for hours while he and Sirius played quidditch. The werewolf would undoubtedly wake up and try to consult the Map, James was sure.

 

As Sirius shook himself out of whatever thoughts he had lost himself in and picked his way to the dormitory stairs, James made his decision. Noting quickly that Peter had closed his eyes too, he pulled out his wand and pointed it subtly at Remus as he turned to follow Sirius. He muttered a choice spell, sending Remus into a deep sleep that would last at least two hours, and bounded up the stairs to grab his gear. James only felt slightly guilty at charming him - Remus probably needed a few hours of sleep anyway, he can’t have been getting much with his nighttime wanderings.

 

 

Sirius and James made their way to the Quidditch pitch, Sirius with his wand in front of them melting the deep snow drifts in front of him. James followed at his heels, his wand in his pocket next to the Marauder’s Map and his new gloves tucked under an arm, focusing hard on the snow to his right with his hand extended slightly as he tried to wandlessly melt even a bit of it. He had made some progress with wandless magic, about as much as Remus but not nearly as much as Sirius. With the Map finally finished at the end of last year, they’d set their minds to learning wandless magic in their free time - which, admittedly, was sparse this year.

 

They reached the Gryffindor locker room and Sirius turned to James, who was still focusing on melting the snow without his wand. Sirius snorted, pocketed his wand, held out his hand, and curled his fingers slightly. James felt the key to the locker room fly out of his pocket and drop lightly into Sirius’ waiting palm.

 

“Git,” James scowled.

 

“I’m telling you, your focus is off,” Sirius told him, turning to unlock the door.

 

“It isn’t!” James protested, following him into the warmth. “I do just what that barmy old warlock suggested in that stupid book.”

 

“Clearly you don’t, or you’d be able to melt a damn snowflake,” Sirius pointed out.

 

“I can still hex you with my wand, you know,” James muttered as he walked over to his locker. James dropped his new gloves onto the bench in front of it and placed his hand on his locker door. An outline of his hand glowed gold on red before the lock clicked and the door sprang open.

 

After discovering that it was uncommonly easy to break into the other House’s locker rooms and lockers (in an incident that in _no way_ had anything to do with putting bowtruckles in a certain Slytherin’s locker room, if McGonagall is asking), James had upped the security on his own locker and the locker room as whole.

 

James pulled out Sirius’ broom, usually stored in James’ locker, and tossed it to him. Sirius caught it in one hand as the other pulled his new footholds and wand out of the pocket in his cloak. James tossed Sirius’ gloves at his feet.

 

James traded his glasses for his clunky quidditch goggles, pulled off his cloak, pulled on his practice kit (which he always insisted on practicing in), and took his own broom out before shutting the locker again. He sat next to Sirius and pulled on his new gloves, marveling again in the soft leather and perfect fit. He grinned at Sirius, who nodded happily back at him as he tapped his wand to secure the last bolt of his footholds to his broom. He held it out for inspection; James studied it briefly before nodding his approval.

 

“Ready, then?”

 

Sirius pulled on the gloves James had thrown at him, “As always.”

 

They tramped back out into the snow, stopping at the Quidditch shed to grab a spare quaffle. They slipped a bit on the pitch as they mounted their brooms, but rose into the air easily and took a few laps around. The cold air was sharp in James’ lungs, stinging with each breath. Nevertheless, he felt a specific happiness unrolling in his stomach and spreading through his body as he flew higher and faster. There was nothing quite like being in the air, even in the middle of winter.

 

Finally, face numb and lips chapped, he pulled his broom up by Sirius’, “The usual track to warm up, then?”

 

Sirius nodded, shaking his hair out of his eyes impatiently.

 

James and Sirius had come up with the track back in their third year; it was reckless and stupid and perfect and it was even harder now that they were significantly bigger than they were at thirteen. It started by one set of goal posts, looped over the stands at midfield and around the outside of the pitch once, up the widest winding staircase to the spectator’s stands, through the middle goal post on the opposite side to the one they started on, and then whomever shot through the left hoop that they started near first was the winner. James usually won, as he flew much more often than Sirius, but he never won by more than a broom-length or two.

 

They flew up to the hoops and floated side-by-side near the left goal post.

 

“On your mark,” said James, his hands tingling with anticipation.

 

“Get set,” Sirius answered him, his brow furrowed.

 

“Go,” they said in unison.

 

They shot toward midfield, dead even until the sharp left turn that took them over the stands. James pulled ahead then, his turning radius smaller, and dived towards the ground until his feet nearly grazed the snow. Sirius was right behind him. The wind was loud in James’ ears as he whipped around the outside of the pitch, keeping the wall as close to his left shoulder as he dared. When they’d finished the complete lap, James maneuvered his broom through the opening in the wooden stands that led to a staircase that had been widened enough that Hagrid could easily fit through it. Sirius was right on his tail at this point, and as they completed the tight circles that the staircase demanded, Sirius edged closer and closer until, near the very top, just as the outlet door was visible, Sirius viciously cut James off, clipping the front of his broomstick and sending him hurtling toward the wall.

 

James, eyes wide as the wooden staircase wall loomed impossibly close, threw his wand hand up and, though his wand was still in his pocket, shouted, “ _Reducto!_ ”

 

With a deafening bang, a hole punched itself into the wall and James’ broom followed through it milliseconds later. The sharp splinters of the wall formed large, treacherous teeth that caught at James’ sleeve and right ear as he flew through, ripping holes into both.

 

James swore loudly as he felt the wood rip through his ear. He felt hot blood running down his neck and into his clothes. He directed his broom to the ground and landed hard, stumbling off of his broom before dropping it and bringing a hand to his ear. It came away red and sticky and James stared at it, heart pounding, until he heard Sirius land beside him.

 

“Fuck, James, are you -” Sirius started, hopping off of his broom in a flurry of snow and trudging through over to him.

 

“What the fuck is your problem?” James shot at him, venom laced into the words. He was sick of this: sick of Sirius’ lies, sick of his tempers, sick of him breaking tradition, sick of him doing stupid shit that was bound to get someone hurt or expelled.

 

Sirius pulled up short, just out of arm’s reach, “What?”

 

“Are you deaf?” James yelled. “I asked what the fuck your problem was,” James marched forward and pushed him roughly. Sirius stumbled back, his shock at James’ tone turning into anger. “You cut me off back there! You rammed into my broom!” James continued, gesturing with the hand that was covered in blood. Tiny drops splattered onto the pristine snow. “In the fucking staircase! Fuck, Padfoot, are you trying to get someone bloody killed?”

 

Sirius’ face contorted, and he stepped back toward James, “You’re mad because I cut you off? Maybe you should learn to fly better, Mr. Quidditch Captain, and you wouldn’t have to blast holes through the goddamn infrastructure.”

 

James snorted, “No,” he said, his voice low and dangerous now. “I’m mad because you’ve been a fucking prat lately, stomping around the bloody dorm bitching at everyone who looks at you. So, I ask you again: what the _fuck_ is your problem?”

 

Sirius scoffed, “Ever consider that maybe it’s none of your goddamn business?” He spat at James before turning back toward his broom.

 

“Oi!” James pulled out his wand and shot a stinging hex at Sirius’ back. “Don’t walk away from me.”

 

Sirius turned back, looking mutinous, and in a swift motion pulled his wand and sent James flying backwards into the snow.

 

James scrambled up, the cold seeping down his back contrasting now with the heat of his ear. He squared off, facing Sirius, but kept his wand by his side. His ear was still bleeding copiously down his neck and soaking his collar. Seconds later, Sirius had marched up, his grey eyes flashing, and stuck his wand under James’ chin. James didn’t move. Though he could have, he didn’t try to defend himself. He looked evenly at Sirius. He watched his best mate take uneven breaths, he felt the steam of them on his face.

 

After a stretch of silence, of James offering no resistance, Sirius lowered his wand and stepped back. He raked his free hand through his hair, swallowing hard, and James saw that his eyes looked unusually bright.

 

“What’s wrong, Sirius?” James asked, his tone gentle now. He tried to catch Sirius’ eye again. “I’m worried about you.”

 

Sirius didn’t look at him. He swallowed again.

 

James reached out and clasped a hand on Sirius’ shoulder, turning him until Sirius looked at him again. “What happened with you and Remus?” he asked, cutting to the quick of what he thought was wrong. “Did you two have a row? Was it something like what happened fifth year?” James saw Sirius wince when he mentioned the incident from fifth year - James usually winced, too.

 

“No,” Sirius said, his voice gravelly. He cleared his throat, “Nothing like what happened fifth year.”

 

“Then what?” James pried. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” James looked directly into his grey eyes. Sirius held his gaze, searching for something, before looking at his feet. James dropped his hand and waited.

 

“Remus,” Sirius started. “Well, I - we -” he kicked at the snow. Sirius dragged his sleeve under his nose, still not looking up. “Remus and I…” he tried again. Stopped. Kicked at the snow again.

 

James waited, his stomach twisting. He didn’t know what to expect; he felt like he knew exactly what to expect.

 

After a drawn out silence, Sirius finally looked up at James. He looked so helpless that James’ heart clenched painfully.

 

James nodded once, and reached out to grab Sirius’ shoulder and pull him into a hug. Sirius gripped him tightly, dropping his head to James’ shoulder and taking shaky breaths.

 

When James pulled back, he kept his hands on Sirius’ shoulders, “You’re my best mate, okay? No matter what. No matter _anything_.” Sirius nodded mutely. James smiled at him, “But honestly, mate, work your shit out. I hate it when you guys fight; it makes me all tense and anxious and shit.”

 

Sirius let out a weak laugh, “Merlin, sometimes it’s so bloody obvious you grew up in a happy household. It’s disgusting.”

 

James smiled, shoved him lightly. “Fuck off.”

 

Sirius smiled at him again, and James felt some of the tension from all the fighting and secrets loosen a bit.

 

“Let me fix your ear,” Sirius said, nodding at it and raising his wand. “Evans might not fancy you with only one and half ears.”

 

James turned his head obediently, “Think she fancies me, then?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

 

Sirius laughed again, “You’re hopeless.”

 

“Speak for yourbloodyself,” James muttered, inhaling sharply as he felt his ear knit itself back together.

 

Ear healed and feelings vaguely acknowledged, James and Sirius flew up and set to charming the wall James had blasted apart back together. Sirius made many jokes about James’ successful wandless magic, saying that next time James needed to focus on something the other Marauders would happily endanger his life for him. When that was finished, James swooped down and picked up the quaffle he’d dropped by the door to the locker rooms, “Fancy playing keeper for a bit?” he asked.

 

“Bring it, Potter.”

 

James spent the better part of the next hour testing his new gloves and his best mate. He sent shot after shot at Sirius, getting more and more irritated when he managed to save at least three quarters of them.

 

“I hate you for not playing on the house team,” he grumbled as Sirius caught up a particularly well-angled shot. “You’re loads better than Rotherman. Show some Gryffindor spirit, you prat.”

 

Sirius barked a laugh, “Not in this life, Prongs. I value my sanity too much to properly train with you.”

 

They switched positions and Sirius executed a series of maneuvers that James had been trying to teach his youngest Chaser all term. He ground his teeth together and blocked his shot. _Wanker._

 

They continued that way for a while, switching back and forth, and before long they were sweaty under their cloaks, cold despite this, and altogether exhausted.

 

“Call it a day, then?” Sirius said innocently after he nearly knocked James off of his broom to steal the quaffle back from him.

 

James looked around and noticed that it had started getting dark around them, “Fine, fine.”

 

They landed in the snow near the Gryffindor locker room entrance. When they entered the locker room, Sirius threw himself onto the bench and began to tug his shoes off, “Merlin, I can’t feel my toes.”

 

“Should’ve put a heating charm on them,” James told him as he pulled off a glove and put his hand on his locker to open it.

 

“Least you’ve got good hindsight, even if your eyes are useless,” Sirius muttered.

 

James felt a swooping sensation in his stomach. _“How do I look?” Lily had asked him, his glasses on her face, her red hair framing them._

James swallowed hard and busied himself in putting his gloves, goggles, and quidditch kit back before shooting a cleaning and drying spell at them. He put his glasses back on, but left the locker open so Sirius could return his own things.

 

“You headed back up?” Sirius asked him, his feet now bare and stinking up the whole room.

 

James nodded, “That lovely Prefect’s bathroom is calling my name.”

 

Sirius scowled, “I’m still peeved you haven’t told me the new password.”

 

“I’m still peeved you haven’t tried out for the quidditch team, so I think we’re even.” James scowled right back. “Don’t you usually get Moony to tell you anyway?”

 

It was a low blow, sure, but James was only doing it for science. He needed to see how…

 

Sirius ducked his head, “Yeah, well.”

 

Yeah, James was pretty sure. Still, Phase Three wasn’t going to complete itself.

 

“Password’s ‘extra-strength shampoo,’” James told him with a grin, slipping on his cloak.

 

Sirius laughed, “What had Snape done to piss you off the day you made the passwords?”

 

“Did I need a reason?” James asked, arching an eyebrow at his friend as he turned around.

 

Sirius chuckled again, “Guess not.”

 

“Thought Lily was going to catch on at first - the look she gave me - but she let it slide,” James grinned fondly.

 

Sirius shook his head at him, “Well, I’m going to shower here. I need about an hour of nonstop hot water before my extremities come back to life.”

 

“As you wish,” James shrugged, and stuck his hand into his pocket to make sure the Map was still there. “You still have the key?”

 

Sirius nodded before pulling off his cloak and first layer of jumpers.

 

“Don’t forget to lock up properly,” James reminded him. “The Slytherins are still livid about that bowtruckle thing, even though it was a whole year ago.”

 

“Can’t really blame them, their keeper nearly lost an eye.”

 

“Shame no one ever found out who did that,” James said solemnly.

 

Sirius grinned something wicked.

 

James clapped him on the shoulder on his way out, ducking back into the brutal cold. Once he made it to the castle he employed his rather extensive list of shortcuts to his favorite prefect bathroom on the sixth floor. He saddled up to a particularly dark corner of the corridor, took out his wand and tapped the stone five up and three over from the bottom corner muttering, “extra-strength shampoo.”

 

The door to the bathroom immediately stopped pretending to be a wall and swung inward revealing a giant room with a shower set into one wall, a selection of chamber pots into the other, and a clubfoot tub big enough to fit his four poster bed against the wall immediately opposite the door.

 

James kicked the door shut behind him, waited until it had melded back into a wall, and then stripped out of his cold and wet clothes. He left them in a pile by the door as he walked over to the tub and turned on his favorite three of the eight faucets. By the time he’d used the loo and grabbed the Marauder’s Map from his cloak, the tub was full.

 

He conjured a small table next to the bath and set his wand and the Map on it before he shut off the water and soap faucets. He slowly climbed in, shivering slightly as he lowered himself into the nearly too-hot water. Steam and purple bubbles rose from the surface, giving off a scents of lavender and chamomile. He didn’t care if Peter always told him he smelled like a girl after his baths, lavender and chamomile were universally known to relax body and mind and James was damned if a bit of teasing was going to stop him from enjoying them.

 

After submerging his whole body underwater and scrubbing off the blood caked onto his neck, he surfaced, running a hand through his hair to push it back out of his eyes. For a few moments, he rested his head against the cool back of the tub, his feet stretched out in front of him. He closed his eyes and tried to forget about all of the things that had already happened today. He inhaled deeply, tried not to think about Sirius or Remus or Lily or the war, and exhaled. He continued this until he got it right, his mind finally completely blank. Then, a few seconds later, he sat up with a sigh and slipped over to the side of the tub where the Map rested on his conjured table.

 

Phase Three then.

 

He shook the water off of his hands before grabbing his wand in one and the Map in the other. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he said, tapping his wand to parchment and grinning as he always did as Remus’ elegant handwriting appeared.

 

The Map unfurled itself before him, and he put his wand back on the table so he could open it with both hands. He looked first to the Gryffindor common room and found it empty. In the boys dormitory he saw Peter, Frank, and Garrett. The girl’s dormitory was empty. He scanned the corridors and found Lily in one near the owlery. He didn’t dwell on that just now.

 

Finally, scanning the grounds, he found Remus. He was making his way around the lake towards the Quidditch pitch. Sirius was still in the Gryffindor locker room, though he was out of the showers.

 

James grinned a tight grin, he couldn’t have planned the timing better if he tried. Well, he guessed he did try: Remus hadn’t slept for nearly two and a half hours that afternoon on his own.

 

He watched as Remus walked closer to the pitch. He felt vaguely nauseous and allowed himself to properly think about the thing for the first time: what if Remus and Sirius were… dating, or shagging, or had just stopped dating or shagging? Two of his best mates sneaking away together with none the wiser, all the while with Sirius making jokes about pulling chicks and Remus rolling his eyes at the lot of them. Would it bother James? Or would he just be annoyed that they kept it from him?

 

He thought back to his conversation with Sirius on the pitch. James had all but asked outright, and Sirius had looked like he was going to actually cop to it for a moment before he stuttered over the words, unable to force them out. Did Sirius realize that James suspected?

 

James turned his attention back to the Map and saw that the Remus and Sirius dots were now standing close together near the door to the Gryffindor locker room. James felt a slight guilty twinge in his gut for spying on them, but pushed it aside. It was for the good of the group. He had to know what was causing all the goddamn tension lately.

 

He watched for a minute or so more, his mind reeling. It wasn’t that wizarding law prohibited this sort of thing, not really, not the same way that muggle law did. Sure, there was a certain taboo surrounding it still in some pureblood circles, but a good number of them were into incest anyway so they really didn’t have much room to talk. James knew he had a male cousin, Martin, on his dad’s side that had been living with his ‘good friend’ for nearing on fifty years, and they’d seemed alright the few times he’d met them.

 

Remus’ and Sirius’ dots looked a lot closer now, James realized. His eyes widened as the gap closed almost completely and they moved into the locker room - _oh, I’ll fucking kill them_ \- and suddenly there was no way to tell whose dot was whose. Their names overlapped in Remus’ tiny script above the dots making a jumble of indecipherable letters as their dots formed an odd sort of Venn Diagram of Remus, Sirius, and their common overlapping parts. James watched for only a few seconds more, and when it became obvious that they were not breaking apart any time soon he began feeling dirty. He wiped the Map, set it on the table, and sank back into the warm water.

 

Well. He’d expected this. He drew in a breath, his mind still trying to comprehend the fact that his best mates were currently Dick Distance Apart in his goddamn quidditch locker room and he couldn’t even prank them for that last part, the location, because he wasn’t supposed to have found out.

 

He broke the thoughts apart in his mind to make them easier to understand. Remus and Sirius, together, coupling. _When had it happened?_ James had only began to suspect back when he’d seen they were both gone from the Map about a month ago, despite them having claimed they were both studying in the library at the time. But, looking back, there had been other clues. How they always seemed flushed and giddy when they tumbled into the common room after James returned from Quidditch practice, Peter in tow as a spectator. Remus taking more of an interest in engine building over the summer, Sirius asking James for chess lessons. Holy Godric, it must have been going on for _months_.

 

He wonders if they had had a bad fight near the end of term, and that’s why they’d been in such horrid moods. It made sense. He thought about Sirius storming out of the dorm that night when Peter made a joke about Remus pulling. He thought about Remus disappearing from the dormitory each night, of him coming in late at night when he knew Sirius had gone to sleep. James thought about earlier today when Peter had mentioned them flirting and how Remus had turned pink and looked away and Sirius had dived into his trunk. He cringed; they hadn’t made it easy for them, had they?

 

The shame that washed over James as he recounted all the vaguely homophobic jokes made by either him or Peter in the last few months was at least helpful in that he realized he didn’t care if they were gay, or whatever they were. They were his best mates. They were still Remus and Sirius. What, was he going to draw the line after werewolf, but before fancying each other? How could he claim to be any better than those hateful wizards who called for blood purity, who would hate for him to end up with Lily, if he tried to keep his mates from being happy with other blokes if that’s what they wanted?

 

It was just… an adjustment. He hadn’t expected it. He felt like he was allowed to be a little shocked at finding out that his mates were secretly shagging, alright?

 

His mind flashed back to Sirius’ face on the pitch when James had asked what was going on between Sirius and Remus. The pain there, the embarrassment. What did Sirius think James would say if he came clean? Nothing good, apparently. James felt a bit angry, though he figured he had no right to be. He lowered himself into the tub until he was underwater.

 

The worst part of all this was that James knew that he couldn’t tell them that he knew. He wanted to walk up to both of them the next time he saw them and tell them in no uncertain terms that he didn’t give a shit if they wanted to bugger each other so long as they were happy.

 

But if they had wanted him to know, they would have told him. Sirius had the chance only hours ago. It was one thing for James to insinuate to Sirius that he had an idea what was going on, it was another for him to outright confirm it.

 

He groaned and bubbles erupted from his mouth.

 

He was going to have to grin and bear it and maybe, if he couldn’t take it anymore, make subtle references to his unending tolerance and acceptance when he was alone with them. That would have to do.

 

James surfaced, and glanced back at the Map on the table. He scowled at it. _Actually,_ he thought angrily, the worst part of this was that they were desecrating his bloody locker room and he couldn’t even retaliate properly because he wasn’t allowed to let them know he knew. Fuck. If that locker room smelled like sex the next time James was in there, Sirius was getting itching powder in his pants every day for the rest of the school year. Remus too.

 

 

 

James got dressed in his spell-laundered robes and made his way back to the Gryffindor tower without consulting the Map. His Head Boy badge was nearly as good as an invisibility cloak after hours and he also wasn’t keen to witness exactly how close Remus and Sirius could get their dots to appear. There was being accepting of the fact that your friends were shagging and then there was being too involved and James was determined to stay on the former side of things.

 

When he reached his dormitory, he found Frank and Garrett playing what looked like one of Garrett’s muggle card games but an absence of Peter. He walked over and carefully placed the Marauder’s Map into Remus’ sweatpants pocket, from where he’d seen Remus pull it out earlier in the day. With any luck, Remus would think he’d left it there and James’ Brilliant Plan will have been executed perfectly.

 

True, he’d had half a mind to keep it and tell them that they’d been outfoxed by James Potter Head Boy Quidditch Captain, but he’d already decided to play dumb. They’d tell him when they were ready. James was pretty sure outing people wasn’t kosher, which was why he had always been told his Cousin Martin was living with his best friend in a one bedroom flat for fifty years.

 

Map properly returned, James pulled off his clothes and pulled on his favorite pair of sweatpants and a jumper Peter’s mom knit him for Christmas the past year. He left his clothes in a neat pile; he was okay at spell-laundering, but he more enjoyed the crisp feel clothes had after the house elves took care of them. He reached down and pulled his new snitch out of his pocket, and held it up again.

 

_Property of the Arrogant, Bullying Toerag_

 

He grinned. Making up his mind and pulling a set of robes on over his jumper for warmth, he slipped his wand and the snitch into his pocket and headed back out of the dormitory. He had another hunch, and today he’d already been right once.

 

He pulled open the door to the Prefect Meeting Room to find it empty. Disappointment settled somewhere near his navel. Shaking it off, he walked down the table and set to starting a fire in the hearth. In seconds, warmth and light were washing over him. He looked over to the locked cabinet against the wall and briefly considered doing some work before pushing the thought away. It was Christmas, for fuck’s sake. He wasn’t a Ravenclaw.

 

He settled for sitting and leaning against the wall near the fireplace and pulling out his snitch. He let it go and it zoomed around the room. He let it do a few laps before it came within arm’s reach and, quick as anything, he snatched it out the air. He smiled a satisfied smile at it.

 

“ _Ah-hem_.” James didn’t know that a fake cough could sound sarcastic, and yet…

 

He looked up and saw Lily leaning in the doorway again. “Was that so hard?” he grinned at her.

 

“Kind of,” she answered, walking into the room. She was wearing a pair of jeans and an oversized green sweater under an open pair of robes. Her hair fell messily over her shoulders and she was giving him a calculated look. She was beautiful. “You’re cute when you’re startled and it’s an annoyingly hard state to find you in.”

 

James stared at her, wide-eyed. _Did she just say what I think she said?_

 

“Yes, that look right there,” Lily told him, dropping down beside him, so close that her shoulder was flush against his arm. She turned her head and smiled up at him, genuine and warm.

 

James tried really hard to come up with something to say, but he seemed to have forgotten every word in the English language and quite a few in French, too.

 

“You liked your present, then?” she asked innocently, nodding toward the snitch struggling in his hand.

 

“Very much,” James came to his senses with a slight shake of the head. “I don’t think Sirius is too fond of it, though.” With one last look at it, he shoved it back into his pocket.

 

Lily laughed, a wonderful tinkling sound that warmed James from the inside out. “I don’t think he gets an opinion,” she told him. “You do know that he and Remus flushed your last one down the loo in the third year dormitory, right? The third year boys were convinced they had a ghost clanging around in their pipes for a whole week before it finally left them alone.”

 

“What?” James said, voice low and vaguely threatening. “I really am going to kill them.”

 

“Oh, please don’t,” Lily said, leaning over to bump his arm before laying her head on his shoulder. James forgot why he was mad for a second. “Remus might guess I told you.”

 

James shook his head lightly, then laid his head on top of hers, “Alright, but only because you asked nicely. They do kind of deserve it.” _For more than getting rid of my snitch_ , James thought.

 

“Speaking of your mates, though,” Lily continued. She fidgeted with her hands in her lap. “I’m actually rather sore with you.”

 

James could feel her breathing, the delicate rise and fall of her body against his. He felt her smile against the top of her head. “If this is you being sore with me, remind me to do whatever I did more often.”

 

Lily laughed, and reached over to smack him lightly on the chest. She made to lift her head; James lifted his. They turned to face each other and James was pleasantly surprised to see that her cheeks were tinged pink. He grinned at her, “Why are you sore with me, Evans?”

 

“You made me bond with Black. You know how much he irritates me; I don’t appreciate being in situations where I realize he’s a pretty nice human.”

 

James threw his head back and laughed a full-bellied laugh.

 

“It’s not funny!” Lily protested, but James heard the smile in her voice. “We even talked about _emotions_!”

 

“Throw me in the dungeons! String me up by my toes!  I clearly deserve it!” James cried dramatically and Lily smacked him on the chest again. “Lily Evans and Sirius Black, best mates; are you getting matching necklaces?”

 

“I’ll leave,” Lily told him, narrowing her eyes. “I’ll leave right now.”

 

“Okay, okay, I’m done,” James threw and arm over her shoulders and she leaned forward slightly to let him. His stomach flipped. “I’ll stop, don’t go.”

 

“Fine, but you’re on thin ice, Potter,” She said as she snuggled into his side and began picking at a loose thread on his robes.

 

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few seconds, letting the warmth of the fire wash over them. James broke it, “You liked your present then?”

 

Lily nodded into his shoulder, “It was perfect, James,” she said thickly. “It - It means a lot that you went to all that trouble. Your dad, too. You certainly didn’t have to. It must have taken so much time to plan everything out.” She paused, looking at her hands. “This war... I just feel so useless here. I hate that I’m so bloody terrified for my family all the time. And - and not just them, either. My mates, you… I could wake up tomorrow or six months from now and any day everyone could be gone. Just like that, in a flash of light.”

 

James heard her voice wavering, and pulled his arm back, turning so he could face her. She wiped furiously at her eyes before she looked up at him. James took her hands in his, “It’s not useless for you to be here, Lily. You’ll need to know this stuff now more than ever.” He told her fiercely. “And, look, I know you’re scared and, honestly, I’d be concerned for your intelligence if you weren’t, but my dad is a brilliant inventor. I don’t shout about this, but he developed Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion. He taught me loads that was useful for the Map. He retired a while back, so he’s bored more often than not, so when I asked him about this, he was happy to do it and he spent the last month developing them. Voldemort and his Death Eaters could walk past you or your family’s house and so long as they have those, you’re invisible. We’re a team now, Lils - Heads and all that - so it wasn’t any trouble,” he looked at her, his face earnest. “And I’m not going anywhere, okay? I promise.”

 

Lily was looking at James with a curious expression on her face. Her eyes were unusually bright and soft and her breathing seemed shallow. Before James could even understand what was happening, Lily pulled her hands from his, leaned up onto her knees, grabbed his face and kissed him. Hard.

 

He was too shocked to respond at first: his mind blank, heat blooming in his chest. Finally, James didn’t know how many seconds later, _Lily Evans is kissing me_.

 

He responded quickly after the thought snapped into place. His hands reached out and grabbed her hips, pulling her closer and closer until she fell clumsily into his lap. Their kiss was sloppy and new; it was teeth knocking and noses rubbing and lips swelling. Lily’s hands had slipped into his hair and she held him tight, not letting his lips get too far from hers.

 

Over the years, James had thought a lot about what it would feel like to kiss Lily for the first time. He always thought there would be some aspect of _finally_ or _after all these years_ to the whole thing, but there wasn’t.

 

There was just _Lily_ and a sense of _rightness_ and _certainty_ that flooded his whole body and whole mind with the force of a thousand stunning spells. It was overwhelming and terrifying and, when Lily sighed into his mouth in a contented sort of way, James thought it was _amazing_.

 

Just when James thought his entire body was about to combust from heat or lack of oxygen or _something_ , Lily pulled away with one more light kiss and let her hands fall to his shoulders. He didn’t relinquish his hold on her waist; he honestly didn’t know if he _could_.

 

“I can’t believe your father invented Sleekeazy’s and yet you walk around with a bowtruckle’s nest on your head,” she grinned at him, her lips red and swollen and perfect.

 

He stared at her. “I-I can’t believe you want to talk about my dad right now,” James managed to say, his voice even despite the fact that his mind felt like it was doing a complicated set of barrel rolls.

 

“You’re right,” Lily responded matter-of-factly. She hooked her thumbs under the collar of his robes and drew them slowly down his arms until he was forced to let go of her in order to allow her to remove them. Though the stone wall was cold against his thin jumper, his entire body felt warmer than he could remember it ever being. “I don’t really want to talk at all,” she finished, running her hands back through his hair and pulling his face back to hers.

 

He offered no resistance. In fact, if there were such a thing as negative resistance, that was what James offered. He still couldn’t quite believe that this was happening. The only thing that told him that it was actually real was the fact that Lily had fisted her hands into his hair, pulling it in a way that hurt but didn’t _hurt_.

 

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other sneaking up her back, trying to close what little space was still between them. Lily, seemingly fueled by a similar desire, readjusted her legs until she was properly straddling James, all without breaking their kiss. As she moved her hips against him, shifting closer, James heard a noise escape him that he likely would have been embarrassed of if he had any capacity for rational thought.

 

He felt Lily smile against his mouth, a smirk really, and broke away, bringing one hand to her face, tilting it away from him to get at her jaw, her neck. He paused at a point behind her ear, relishing in the way her hair smelled like cinnamon and some other spice he couldn’t name, and kissed her there. As he placed sloppy kisses down her neck, he used his other hand to pull off her outer robe, flinging it to the side before placing the hand on her hip, under the sweater, right where her jeans stopped and her skin started. Her skin was smooth and warm under his calloused hand.

 

James pulled away and looked at her. He stretched his fingertips up her jawline, ran his thumb slowly over her lips. Her eyes were wide and shining. She studied him, then surprised him for the second time in ten minutes by grabbing the bottom of her sweater with both hands and tugging it over her head in a quick motion.

 

“What are you going to do about _that_ , Potter?” she said wickedly.

 

James was sure he looked like a dumbstruck idiot; he was sure he _was_ a dumbstruck idiot, but hell if he was going to waste a single moment talking this time. He focused and gestured at the door, it slammed shut and the lock clicked loudly. He smacked a palm onto the stone beside them, _“Molliare!_ ”

 

“Was that -” Lily started, but James cut her off by wrapping an arm tight around her and tilting them sideways until they were lying on the ground, James leaning over her, pressed against her side.

 

Lily patted the cushioned-charmed ground. “Wandless magic? Impressive,” she said, rather breathlessly.

 

“I thought we agreed we weren’t talking anymore,” James told her quietly, kissing her before she could respond. He skimmed his fingertips over her hip, up her stomach. _How is her skin so bloody soft?_

James ran his tongue along her bottom lip and Lily shivered, a faint noise echoing in the back of her throat. James smiled against her mouth this time and she ‘hmmm’d’ at him, her hands slipping from his shoulders, under his arms, and began to tug his jumper up his back. He stopped snogging her long enough to allow her to pull it over his head, and then leaned back over her, pressing one of his legs between hers as he lowered his body.

 

Lily made another contented noise as James’ skin connected with hers, and she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, pulling him closer. James pushed the hand that wasn’t supporting him roughly into her hair and kissed her again, more desperately.

 

He wanted _more_ , even as she ran her nails down the length of his back.

 

_More_ , as his hand explored her figure, running down her side and tightening around her thigh, pulling her leg closer to his hip.

 

_More_ , still, as he trailed kisses down her neck again, kissed the freckles sprinkled over her shoulders, over her collarbone, over her chest. She arched her whole body into him with a soft moan, and he took advantage of it to sneak a hand behind her back and unclasp her bra with his free hand.

 

Lily laughed softly as she slipped the straps off of her arms and James kissed his way back up her neck, “Not bad.”

 

He pulled away and grinned at her, ran his hand back down her back and over to her stomach, “This okay?” he asked, trailing his hand higher.

 

“Yes. Now get back here,” she said, grinning back as she pulled his lips back down to hers.

 

They spent a considerable time trying desperately to occupy the same space; hands memorizing curves and muscle twitches, lips memorizing taste. They fell into a rhythm that left James only vaguely aware of the passage of time, of anything outside of Lily’s body and the ways that it was currently touching his own. He could have happily stayed in that room in front of the fire on the now-comfortable stone floor for the rest of his life, he thought. He could have spent the rest of eternity categorizing each of Lily’s freckles, figuring out hundreds of different ways to make her moan or whisper his name or sigh that one happy sigh. He would have swapped just about any of his possessions, including his broomstick, for the chance to feel Lily’s skin on his, to get the rest of her offending garments off of her stupidly perfect body, to kiss every inch of her.

 

Which was why, when Lily’s hands went to the strings holding his sweatpants up, he surprised even himself when he pulled away. “Wait,” he said, putting his hand over hers.

 

She looked up at him, breathing heavy, and raised her eyebrows, “Hmmm?”

 

“I-I think,” he faltered, his attention catching on her lips, on the faint bruise he’d left on her neck. _God, I want you so bad._ He took a deep breath and looked back into her eyes, brought his hand to her face. “I just… There’s no need to rush things. I want it to be - I just - We have time.” She studied him, tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth. He was suddenly worried. “Right?”

 

He felt his face heating up; he was being dumb, wasn’t he? He just… he didn’t want his first time with Lily to be on the damn floor of the room he doles out patrol schedules in. He didn’t want to rush it. He felt like a bit of a nancy for thinking it, but he thought they, _they_ , deserved better.

 

But… what if she wasn’t really interested in anything beyond tonight? What if she just wanted a good snog or shag or whatever and he happened to be there?

 

He’d just managed to work himself up into a near-panic when Lily smiled at him, and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Right,” she said softly. “I actually think I rather like your softer side,” she teased, leaning up to kiss him softly.

 

The tension knotting itself around his stomach released, and he rubbed his thumb along her cheek and deepened the kiss, pressing his body tightly against hers, relieved that she didn’t seem ready to bolt on him. She arched up off the floor again, pressing her hips to his, and sucked on his bottom lip. She had to feel how badly he wanted her, had to know what she was doing to him.

 

_Fuck_.

 

With a loud groan James pulled away completely, rolling off of her and sitting up.

 

“Everything alright?” He heard her ask from behind him.

 

“Yeah,” he replied huskily, turning to look back at her. She was up on her elbows, looking at him with her green eyes and bare chest and her swollen lips and... James quickly turned back around. “Only you’re really testing my resolve, Evans, so I need to sit here and think about, er, Sirius’ mum or Professor Slughorn for a few minutes or else I’ll decide that I don’t care about any of the very logical reasons I have for not shagging you right now on this floor but that I can’t seem to remember at the moment.”

 

He heard Lily laugh, and felt as she sat up and scooted up toward him until they were shoulder to shoulder, “Sirius’ mum?” she asked.

 

“She’s bloody terrifying; I’m surprised Sirius can even consider shagging anyone given that he grew up with her.”

 

Lily laughed again, and James felt the vibration against his arm. He glanced at her and stopped short again at the sight of all that bare skin, right there, smooth and warm and _Lily_.

 

“Yeah, as much as I hate myself right now for saying this, I’m going to need you to put a shirt on.”

 

Lily looked at him, expression wicked, “Is that so?” she kissed his bare shoulder, her lips lingering. He groaned again, closing his eyes. _Not on the floor, not on the floor, not on the floor_. He chanted in his mind over and over and over.

 

He opened his eyes as Lily was reaching for her shirt and saying, “You know, I honestly can’t believe I had to start that myself. I’d been trying to get you to snog me for the past couple of weeks now,” she turned back to face him, holding her jumper. “I was about to -”

 

What she was about to do, James never found out, because upon hearing those words come out of her mouth, he promptly decided he didn’t care and was being rather stupid, really, about not shagging her immediately. He brought a hand to her face and his mouth to hers. Lily made a muffled noise against his mouth before dropping her shirt in her lap and wrapping an arm around James’ middle.

 

They fell back, James pulling Lily on top of him, and she straddled him, pressing her chest to his as she kissed him. James had both hands in her hair, and she was running one of hers down his chest, up his neck, into his hair. He moaned impatiently when she broke away and kissed his jaw, trailed her mouth down his neck.

 

James’ hands went to her hips, slid to the button on her jeans. He had already gotten it undone when Lily made a frustrated sort of noise, pulling back and planting a light kiss on James’ lips. “Goddamnit,” she said, kissing him again, “I think you were right.”

 

“About what?” James said, craning his neck to keeping kissing her, even as she pulled away.

 

“No rush,” she breathed into his mouth. “Have time.”

 

James, remembering again, groaned and let his head fall back. He stopped trying to unzip the jeans and slid his hands around to her back. “No, you see, I’m an idiot,” he told her. “Don’t ever listen to me.”

 

Lily chuckled, but slid off of him. She pressed into the crook of his arm, one arm draped over his stomach, one leg still tangled with his. “I’ve been saying that for years,” she told him. She pushed up onto one elbow and looked at him. She brushed his hair out of his face, “But don’t worry,” she told him softly. “I’m not going anywhere either.”

 

James was about ninety percent sure his chest was expanding so much that it was going to burst. He smiled, unable to form words to say back to her, and she kissed his lips quickly before settling back down. James brought his arm around her, his hand resting on her hip. He closed his eyes and began reciting the steps required to properly service and test a broomstick.

 

After a minute or two of silence, Lily asked, “Still thinking of Sirius’ mom?”

 

“Ways to properly service and test a broomstick, actually.”

 

Lily snorted, “And that’s supposed to calm you down? I assumed anything related to quidditch would have much the opposite effect.”

 

James flicked her lightly on the back with the arm that was holding her to him and she laughed harder. She wrapped her arm tighter around his chest and pulled herself closer. James kissed the top of her head, still in awe that he was apparently allowed to do this now.

 

“I went to talk to your friend in Hogsmeade this morning,” Lily said softly.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“He told me to tell you that he’s not drinking with you lot anymore and that if you ever pull this again he’ll poison you.”

 

James laughed, “Lovely bloke, isn’t he?”

 

He felt Lily smile into his chest. He reveled in the fact that that was a feeling that he could name now.

 

“Is that all he said?” James prompted.

 

“No,” Lily told him. “He was helpful, as you said he’d be. It wasn’t until I met Black in the corridor that I decided, though.”

 

“Sirius helped you make a major life decision? He’ll be devastated,” James teased.

 

“That makes two of us,” Lily was smiling again.

 

James didn’t push her to tell him, but she did anyway. “I’m going to go home tomorrow. I went to see McGonagall about it, but it seems you beat me to that, too.”

 

James smiled widely, “I had a feeling.”

 

Lily pushed back up onto her elbow and looked at him. Her hair was falling over her shoulder and she still wasn’t wearing any clothing above the waist. James worked very hard on keeping his eyes on her face. It wasn’t as hard as he imagined it would be; she was giving him a very peculiar look, her eyes seemed to be searching for something but the rest of her face had already made a decision.

 

“I want you to come with me,” Lily finally said, her voice even.

 

James’ eyebrows shot up. “What?” he said reflexively. “You want me to come home with you?”

 

Whenever he thought he had Lily Evans figured out, she went and did something like this and made him reconsider everything.

 

“Yes,” Lily nodded. “This time _I_ talked to McGonagall and she said she could arrange it, if you want. I figured we would stay with my family until after the wedding and then spend the rest of the hols with yours, if you want. I know you don’t usually go home for Christmas holidays, but I thought it could, er, be nice?” The end of her speech trailed up, as if it were a question.

 

James stared at her - her wide questioning green eyes, the way she was biting her bottom lip, her raised eyebrows - and asked himself if he would ever truly be able to say no to her, if she could possibly know how thoroughly she had him in the palm of her hand.

 

He grinned, “You haven’t even agreed to go on a date with me and you’re already trying to bring me home?”

 

Her face broke into one of the biggest smiles James had ever seen her wear and it _melted_ him. They’d have to come and mop him off of the floor, he was sure.

 

“You haven’t asked me in a while, Potter.”

 

“Noticed, did you?”

 

Lily rolled her eyes, “Well?” She looked at him expectantly. “Or do I have to do everything myself today?”

 

James felt a swooping feeling in his stomach, much like when he dipped into a steep dive on his broom. He brought a hand to her cheek, “Go out with me, Evans?”

 

“Only if you go out with me first,” Lily grinned at him. “And my sister’s a cow, so think carefully about your answer.”

 

“No need,” James pulled her down and kissed her soundly, wondering if he’d ever been quite as happy as he was in this moment.

 

 

Later, when they were both properly clothed, Lily walked along the table in front of James towards the door, “I’m starving - did your mum send those pies again this year?”

 

James stopped suddenly, “How do you know about my mum’s pies?”

 

“Remus always shares,” she told him over her shoulder. “Promised not to tell you, though.”

 

She reached the door and put a hand on the handle and had pulled it slightly open before James reached it and pushed it shut again. Lily turned to find herself trapped by James’ arms.

 

James narrowed his eyes at her, “Stop turning my mates against me, woman.”

 

“No,” Lily said, tapping a finger on his nose. “Do you think your mum will make pies when we’re at your house?”

 

James couldn’t even pretend to be mad, not when she was this close and talking about what was going to happen when she came to his bloody house.

 

“She’ll probably insist we help,” James sighed.

 

“Really?” Lily brightened. “I’d love that!”

 

James’ heart felt like it was swelling again, and all he could think to do about it was lean down and kiss Lily again.

 

He didn’t think that kissing Lily could or would ever get old, even if he did it every minute of every hour of every day for the rest of his life.

 

After a good while, he pulled away and rested his forehead against Lily’s, taking in this moment and everything that had happened that night in his New Favorite Room. Then he reached under Lily’s arm to open the door. He grabbed her hand, and tugged her along, turning the opposite way to the common room.

 

“Where are we going?” Lily asked.

 

“To feed you,” James told her.

 

“I knew I fancied you for a reason,” Lily said happily.

 

“You have to stop saying things like that if you want me to stop snogging you every few seconds.”

 

“Who said I wanted that?”

 

James pinned her against the wall again.

 

 

Three more quick snog sessions later, James tickled the pear and both it and Lily laughed before James opened the portrait to reveal the other three Marauders and many house elves swooping around them.

 

“Prongs!” Sirius called joyously from behind a Christmas pudding.

 

“Evans?” Peter asked, dumbfounded, when she stepped in behind James.

 

The Marauders took in the redhead, their eyes falling from her face to their clasped hands.

 

“I _knew_ you told her about that passageway!” Sirius exclaimed, pointing a spoon accusingly at James.

 

“So what if I did?” James challenged.

 

Sirius looked at Peter and Remus. The latter shrugged, “ _So_ she can’t interrogate me about where you lot get supplies for those quidditch parties anymore, I reckon.”

 

“ _So_ we have one more set of arms to carry aforementioned supplies,” Peter grinned wickedly.

 

“ _So_ help me god if I catch you snogging in the dormitory, I’ll hex you into the next century.” Sirius put in, looking between the two of them.

 

James and Lily both colored, but Lily said, “I’d like to see you try, Black.” She dropped James’ hand and walked over to Sirius, “Budge up, I’m starving.” She made room and sat down beside him, swiping his spoon and bowl of pudding as he gaped open-mouthed at her.

 

He looked up at James, who grinned and shrugged, “By the way, we’re headed to Lily’s house tomorrow for her sister’s wedding; we’ll be back when term starts.”

 

“I think I have missed several things,” Peter said, looking around as James dropped into a seat next to Remus.

 

“Lily’s one of us now,” Remus told him, shaking his head with a smile.

 

“Oh,” Lily said, pointing her spoon at Remus before looking around at all of them. “reminds me, as I hate to say it, that Map is bloody brilliant and I have to admit that I am thoroughly impressed.”

 

“ _What?!_ ” Remus, Sirius, and Peter said together, turning to face James with differing levels of outrage on their faces.

 

James didn’t care, he just smiled happily at Lily, who grinned right back. _Best. Christmas. Ever._


	4. Chapter Three: Sirius Black, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, apparently Sirius has a lot of feelings and a lot going on, because this chapter was getting really long really fast. This isn't his whole day, just the first half(ish), but it was getting as long (or longer?) than James' and Remus' chapters. Since it's been a while, I figured I'll post what I have as Chapter Three Part I and then when I finish the rest I'll post it as Chapter Three Part II.
> 
> Sorry if that's confusing, but I mean, yay update?
> 
> xx  
> -M

**Chapter Three: Sirius Black, Part I**

 

 

Sirius sighed his way into consciousness, rolling over to toss his bare, and slightly cold, arm around Remus, who was a heating charm made human.

 

Sirius woke up first of the seventh year boys consistently enough that he and Remus had begun to risk sharing a bed occasionally sometime around Halloween; Sirius would wake up first, throw an arm around Remus, kiss him good morning, and then lift the silencing charms he’d placed on his dormmates’ bed curtains as he disappeared to the loo before anyone else had opened their eyes. It was a good arrangement, one that included sticking charms to keep anyone from opening the bed curtains from the outside and one that helped Remus in the days before and after the full moon when he had a tendency to jerk into consciousness from horrible nightmares.

 

This morning, though, Sirius’ arm found only the empty side of his four poster. Sirius blinked his eyes open in confusion two seconds before reality hit him like a bludger to the face. Remus wasn’t in his bed because he’d called it off. Remus wasn’t interested in being in Sirius’ bed any longer; Sirius wouldn’t ever wake up with Remus’ sandy hair tickling his chin or be able to take full advantage of the silencing charms and being the only two awake in the dormitory with him ever again.

 

A hollow feeling in his stomach, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the top of his four poster. On the canopy above him were the two hundred and sixty-two scorch marks that he’d burned into the curtains; that’s how many days of sixth year he’d fancied Remus before they left for the summer hols. When they’d returned for their seventh, he and Remus had been regularly shagging so he felt no need to continue his little habit.

 

Remus used to tease him for those marks, when he finally convinced Sirius to actually confess what they were about.

 

Now, the marks themselves mocked him. It was cruel, really.

 

_“Sirius, we can’t do this anymore.”_

His mind enjoyed playing over the whole break up – that’s what it was, wasn’t it? – over and over in these quiet moments, but it _especially_ loved bombarding him with this specific line.

 

_“Sirius, we can’t do this anymore.”_

 

It’d been a week and the thought of that conversation was still enough to make his chest tighten painfully and his hands itch to hit something and, as much as he hated admitting it, his eyes burn.

 

_“Sirius, we can’t do this anymore.”_

 

Remus had looked perfectly disheveled and pained when he said it.

 

_“Sirius, we can’t do this anymore.”_

 

“Fuck,” Sirius said aloud, sitting up and throwing his curtains open. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stretching his arms above his head until his joints popped. He instinctively looked towards Remus’ bed and saw his curtains hanging open and his bed empty. He scowled at it. He vindictively hoped Remus was fucking freezing wherever he’d gone.

 

_Typical_ , he thought savagely as he made his way to the loo. _Run away from your feelings, Remus. Like a bloody child._

 

When he exited the loo minutes later, no one else had stirred. He looked at the end of his bed and remembered for the first time that it was Christmas when he saw the small pile there. He grinned when he saw a large parcel he knew was from Mrs. Potter. It would include at least two of his favorite pies. He shuffled through the presents, looking at who had sent him gifts, and at the bottom saw two envelopes hiding under a badly wrapped gift from Peter.

 

Examining them, he saw the first bore the Black family crest. He almost laughed. He walked over and grabbed his wand off the table by his bed. He put _that_ letter in the bin and set a silencing charm around it before setting it on fire to be sure whatever curse it contained was properly destroyed. He sighed when he heard a soft _pop_ escape past the charm, indicating there had indeed been a pretty powerful curse on it. What a kind, loving mother he had.

 

Turning his attention to the other letter in his hand, he saw that it was in a green envelope and, upon reading the writing on the outside, his breath caught in his chest. He’d know that handwriting anywhere even if the note wasn’t signed.

 

_Sirius,_

_For the longest time, I couldn’t think of anything to get you that would mean as much to you as you mean to me, but then I remembered this. I know things are weird now, and you don’t have to keep it if ~~it’s too much~~ ~~it’s too personal~~ ~~it’s too weird~~ you don’t want to. I won’t be offended or anything._

_Remus_

 

He wanted to throw it in the bin fire too. It was almost as cursed as that stupid letter from his mother, he was sure. Sirius didn’t want anything from Remus.

 

(Sirius wanted _anything_ from Remus.)

 

He finally remembered how breathing worked and managed to sit on the edge of his bed as the fire in the bin died out, holding the letter as if _it_ were fragile instead of Sirius

 

_Fuck_.

 

He threw the letter and wand at his headboard and collapsed backward onto the bed, his feet still on the floor. He closed his eyes and Remus’ face floated up from his memory, that little smile he saved just for Sirius on his face.

 

_“Sirius, we can’t do this anymore.”_

Remus, pushing him into the bed with his weight and his hips, kissing his neck, catching Sirius’ lips in a dizzying kiss.

_“What do you want me to say? ‘Good evening James, Peter, I know it’s illegal in muggle Scotland for two men under the age of 21 to have any sort of sexual relations but I’ve been shagging Sirius since July so let’s all give a big middle finger to The Man?’”_

 

Sirius dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to wipe away the memories of Remus. When he couldn’t, he sat up again and looked around the dorm. Everyone was still asleep, somehow. He looked at the green envelope on his pillow.

 

He looked at the gifts at the end of his bed. Those would be a good distraction, but none of the other Marauders were up (and/or present) yet. They had a tradition of waiting until everyone was awake, and then opening each other’s gifts first; James always said something about one big happy Hogwarts family. Well, _that_ was unlikely as he and Remus certainly hadn’t been behaving like family members for the past five months.

 

Still, James would likely hex him into the new year if he began present opening without them. Sirius looked at his best mate’s four poster, curtains still drawn.

 

_“Sirius,” Remus laughed quietly, pulling open Sirius’ curtain to look at James’ closed ones as Sirius’ mouth took a trip from Remus’ lips to kiss his neck. “James is_ right there _in the next bed over, he could wake up any minute!” Remus dropped Sirius’ curtain and sealed them shut again with a charm._

_“Let him,” Sirius kissed under his ear. “He’ll throw open his curtains” Sirius kissed Remus’ jaw. “all confused at why someone” Sirius kissed the side of Remus’ mouth and Remus hmmm’d impatiently. “is moaning my name in my bed” Sirius settled his lips right over Remus’, barely touching his, dancing out of reach when Remus tried to close the distance. “and you’ll have to tell him to fuck right off because I’ll be busy su-” Remus used his hands to pull Sirius’ head down and kiss him properly, and Sirius smiled into his mouth. “you right off.” Sirius finished, and Remus made a small noise in the back of his throat that Sirius took as a challenge. He disappeared under the duvet with a smirk and soon Remus was holding the pillow over his face to keep silent._

 

Sirius took many deep, even breaths until the panic and hurt finally dissipated and then, desperate for a distraction, he pulled a few of his presents onto his bed and began unwrapping.

 

The first one was from James, and contained a pair of very nice new footholds for his broom. He smiled happily, James _had_ been listening a while back when Sirius was bitching about his current ones stabbing him in the sole of his shoe when he flew! He should make James go out and play a game of 1-on-1 with him later. That’d be nice and exhausting.

 

He pulled the one from James’ parents toward him and ripped into it. As expected, there were two mince pies and an assortment of toffee candies. Mrs. Potter sure knew the way to his heart, bless her.

 

He was about to pull one from Peter into his lap when the curtains from the bed next to his ripped violently open and James, his voice still raspy with sleep, demanded, “I _know_ you’re not opening presents right now.” His best mate grabbed his glasses from his bedside table and shoved them onto his face crookedly.

 

Sirius almost blanched at the look of betrayal on his face, but recovered, “Thanks for the new footholds! We should go out and play later today so we can try out our gifts.”

 

James looked thrown, “Oh, yeah, well you needed them. Yours were falling apart.” He narrowed his eyes at Sirius, “Can’t have you falling off your broom before I _murder you for breaking tradition_.”

 

Sirius rolled his eyes at the dramatics, but James just swung his legs off the side of the bed and asked, “No, but seriously, what the fuck? You’ve been snapping at everyone lately, and more than that, you know how important traditions are to me –”

 

Sirius decided that James was entering dangerous territory, so he feigned deafness, “Quidditch later then, yeah? I was thinking after Christmas dinner, but not right after because that’d be miserable.”

 

Sirius dragged Peter’s present into his lap and ripped it open.

 

“Can you lot shut up, I’m trying to sleep until at least noon,” Peter called irritably from the bed across from Sirius’.

 

“C’mon Wormtail,” Sirius said, pulling the hat out of the wrapping and grinning at it. “It’s bloody Christmas!” He felt the inner lining and realized it was fur. He pulled it on; it was very warm.

 

“Are you opening gifts?” Peter asked incredulously, throwing open his own curtains.

 

“Thanks for the hat!” Sirius said in answer. “I feel like I should probably be against fur clothing given, you know, our circumstances,” he shot a glance at the other side of the room and saw that Frank and Garrett were just beginning to wake and examine their own gifts. “But I find it rather comforting.”

 

Sirius saw James shaking his head sadly in his direction and decided to ignore that too.

 

“What, so fuck tradition then?” Peter climbed from his bed and began crossing the room.

 

“If you’re Sirius,” James said, annoyed. Sirius caught the subtle wand motion and guessed what was coming before it even happened. He shot his hands in the air and caught the quaffle before it hit him in the face.

 

He grinned cockily and turned to James before spinning the scarlet ball on his raised middle finger. James looked like he wanted to hex him, but before he could, Peter called, “Have you guys seen this?”

 

Sirius stopped the ball, and saw that Peter was looking out of the window nearest the loo. Furrowing his brow, he followed James in getting out of bed and walked right across the room to the nearest window, trying his best not to look at Remus’ empty bed at he did so. He was hit with that earthy, fresh _Remus_ smell as he stood by the window and swallowed hard, focusing on the view out of the window.

 

The school grounds were smooth and white, the snow fresh and unbroken. Sirius saw smoke rising from Hagrid’s hut and watched the Whomping Willow attempt to shake clear its branches.

 

Damn, Hogwarts was something especially magical when it snowed.

 

“Wow,” Peter breathed.

 

“Yeah,” he answered him, hearing James’ voice mix with his.

 

Sirius sighed, “I love the snow, the sky always matches –”

 

“-your eyes and the ice matches your soul,” James said, the eye roll evident in his voice. “We get it, you’re self-deprecating and introspective, you don’t have to tell us every time it snows.”

 

Sirius scowled and chucked the quaffle he was holding at his best mate. James, distracted by the grounds, was unprepared and the quaffle made contact with the side of his face, setting his glasses askew.

 

Peter chuckled, leaving to use the loo.

 

James opened his mouth, but Sirius cut him off, “Oh, open your gift before you get all Righteous with me.”

 

“Not until Remus gets back,” James said and Sirius felt the constricting feeling in his chest that he was trying to distract away.

 

He tried to shrug it off, turning and walking back to his own bed. He caught up a t-shirt from his trunk on his way, and pulled it over his head. The air was much colder over by the window.

 

As he fell back onto his bed, he caught a whiff of chocolate and his chest clenched painfully. He looked down and saw that he had thrown on the same t-shirt that he’d slept in the last time he’d had Remus wrapped around him. Sirius hadn’t let the house elves take it to be washed after they stopped… _doing whatever it was they were doing_ because he didn’t want that chocolate-and-rain smell that was so unique to Remus to be washed away. After everything, it still calmed him to be surrounded by Remus’ smell; Sirius told himself it was the Padfoot in him, because that made it slightly less pathetic.

 

Needing another distraction, Sirius set all of his unwrapped gifts aside, and pulled the rest of the unopened ones onto the bed with him. He saw James shuffling through his own gifts.

 

Sirius opened the gifts from Peter’s mum and his cousin Andromeda, grinning at the sassy note from the latter that included a child’s handprint in ink from ‘Dora. When Sirius looked up from the note, James was gone from the room and Peter was walking back in.

 

He watched Peter examine his gifts, then walk back to the window, “Why aren’t you waiting for Remus this year?” he asked.

 

Sirius didn’t know how to answer. Even if he did, his throat felt tight and his tongue heavy. Besides, he didn’t think _‘I needed a distraction from thoughts of blowing him’_ would go over too well, even if he could force it out.

 

Peter turned around, leaning back against the windowsill, examining Sirius’ face. Sirius met his eyes before looking down at the note in his lap. _Fuckity fuck fuck._

 

Luckily, James saved Sirius from having to come up with something to say by exploding back into the room and declaring that Sirius must hate them.

 

Sirius shot him an annoyed look as James pulled his t-shirt up over his head. James threw the shirt at Sirius, who swatted it away with one hand. It hit the ground as Sirius answered, “I don’t hate you, I just –”

 

He was cut off by the sound of the door opening. He turned toward it instinctively, even though he knew who would be standing there. Sure enough, Remus stood there, invisibility cloak in one hand and an exhausted look about him.

 

“Another early morning walk?” James asked. “You okay, mate?”

 

Sirius shifted on the bed, looking away from Remus. He saw the wrapping paper spread around him and knew that Remus would see that he’d started without him, and probably guess that Sirius was trying to spite him. He shifted again, trying to get comfortable even as his body decided that comfort was not something Sirius deserved.

 

The silence that surrounded the four Marauders seemed to Sirius to last _ages_ , but then he was hit lightly in the face with a wrapping paper ball. It bounced into his lap as Remus said, “Well, I would’ve stuck around if I’d knew you lot would start without me.”

 

Sirius still couldn’t look up as Peter laughed, “Padfoot’s apparently a five-year-old boy when it comes to Christmas presents – no patience.”

 

“Can’t even keep up a tradition for a lousy seven years,” James muttered and Sirius finally looked up, scowling.

 

“Traditions are just rules wrapped in pretty colors,” he grabbed his wand and magicked the wrapping paper ball Remus had shot at him at James. James caught it reflexively and Sirius scowled further, “They deserve to be broken now and again,” he finished.

 

“Whatever,” James walked over and fell onto his bed. He pulled three presents from his pile. “I’m still going to open in order.” James looked at the other two expectantly.

 

Sirius looked back at his bed. He pushed wrapping paper off of his bed and onto the floor sullenly. The air felt heavier now that Remus was in the room with them, as had been the case since Remus had ended things a week ago.

 

Taking stock of what was left around him on his bed, he saw that he’d opened all of his presents now, as far as he could see, except…

 

He turned and grabbed the green envelope that was resting on his pillow and brought it into his lap, staring at it as if it were a bomb. (Staring at it as if it were precious.)

 

_Sirius,_

_I couldn’t think of anything to get you that would mean as much to you as you mean to me, but then I finally remembered this. I know things are weird now, and you don’t have to keep it if ~~it’s too much~~ ~~it’s too personal~~ ~~it’s too weird~~ you don’t want to. I won’t be offended or anything._

_Remus_

 

He’d tried to cross it out, but Sirius could see around it – _It’s too much. It’s too personal. It’s too weird_ – what had Remus given him?

 

He looked up without thinking and found himself staring into Remus’ eyes. For one of the first times since that day, Remus was looking at him and Sirius was looking back and Sirius was pretty sure his heart had stopped beating.

 

“Sirius’ gifts first then, the git,” Peter pulled Sirius’ eyes away from Remus as he held up a present Sirius had wrapped.

 

Sirius half-heartedly shot Peter a two-fingered salute as his heart restarted.

 

“Sure,” Remus shrugged and Sirius noticed a breathlessness in his voice that made Sirius snap his eyes back over to him.

 

Remus looked down and Sirius’ chest tightened as Remus tore into the gift he’d gotten him. Sirius had gone back during the summer to that little shop they’d passed and bought it. He’d had it engraved and then hidden it in the bottom of his trunk, sure that he’d find the perfect opportunity to give it to him once they got to school.

 

It hadn’t come.

 

And then they’d broken up and Sirius was left with this perfect Moony-gift that was probably way too personal to give to an ex (or whatever Remus was now), but Sirius had decided that, ultimately, he didn’t care. Remus was still one of his best mates. And this was still a perfect gift.

 

Remus held the case in his lap and froze, staring at it with look of mild shock and… was that pain? Regret? Sirius couldn’t figure it out.

 

“Thanks, Sirius!” Peter laughed, pulling out the present Sirius had given him and throwing it behind him.

 

Sirius shook his head, his face growing hot as he wondered if anyone had noticed him staring at Remus. “Oh, yeah, no problem, Pete!” Sirius did his best to put a grin on his face.

 

“Sirius, I –”

 

“Shut up, James,” Sirius turned to him, his grin becoming more genuine. “And before you say anything, I’m not taking them back.”

 

James’ brow furrowed the tiniest bit but he spoke honestly, “These are perfect.”

 

“I know,” Sirius answered. “I didn’t do manual labor all summer to buy you a shitty Christmas present.”

 

James grinned back at him, “I don’t know how ‘manual’ that labor was.”

 

Sirius, recalling their gardening and handyman work for various muggle families, seemed to remember that he’d had to _work_ _hard_ at not doing magic in front of them. That definitely counted for something. He waved a hand at James, “Those muggles we were working for thought it was. I told you you’d want to go out later and play some quidditch so we can try it all out.”

 

James had a look that clearly said, _You’re so right about everything all the time, Sirius_. Or, at least, something similar. Sirius felt less bad about opening his presents early.

 

“James’ next!” Peter called from across the room.

 

Sirius’ eyes slid over to Remus again as James bitched about not wanting to sit out a round. Remus was still staring at his lap. He hadn’t moved at all. Sirius wasn’t sure how to take that; his body wasn’t sure how to feel about it either so it settled on nauseous, which Sirius didn’t entirely appreciate.

 

“Let’s just do Moony’s now since he’s lost in his head,” James finally sighed after waiting a bit for Remus to answer him.

 

Sirius watched Remus give an odd jerk of the shoulder and head that he thought might pass as a shrug and a nod if one was coming out of a full body bind. Sirius tried to catch his eye to see what he thought about the gift, but Remus steadfastly hid his face and shoved the case under his bed. Sirius scowled.

 

After tearing into his book from Remus, James turned it over in his lap and shot at Sirius, “What book did Moony get you?”

 

Sirius was caught off guard by the question, and muttered something about how he didn’t remember the title and then quickly unwrapped and shoved an entire chocolate frog into his mouth, feeling a bit warm under the collar.

 

_Smooth_.

 

He busied himself eating an unhealthy amount of the toffees Mrs. Potter had sent him while the other three opened their gifts and chatted about useless things. Sirius threw in comments when was required, but his mind was completely focused on what Remus thought of his gift and also what Remus had gotten him. The green envelope was on the bed in front of him now, and his hand kept twitching toward it as if his hand could open it without Sirius’ mind realizing what was happening.

 

Sirius knew that he couldn’t open it here, in the dorm, in front of everyone. He was going to lose it. He knew it. There was no way he’d maintain the fragile grip he had on himself if there was, say, a letter from Remus in there. Or, worse, a well-thought-out gift.

 

Sirius felt his throat tighten at the very thought, and he wasn’t particularly in the mood to let anyone see him upset. Particularly Remus. Sirius was definitely upset about whatever they had ending, but he wasn’t about to let Remus see exactly how much it was affecting him. He was a _Gryffindor_ after all.

 

Finally, after entirely too much dilly-dallying, James climbed off of his bed to pack away his gifts and Remus stood up and began to vanish the wrapping paper that littered the beds and floors. Sirius saw an opportunity.

 

He hopped off his four poster and stretched his arms as high in the air as they would go.

 

“Well, good haul this year, considering” he announced. “I’m going to go shower, gotta look my best for Christmas dinner.”

 

“I better go, too,” Peter mumbled, standing. Sirius called Peter a plethora of terrible names in his head as he stealthily slid the envelope and his wand off the bed and into his pocket.

 

“Thank Merlin, you smell like old socks,” James muttered, falling back onto his bed as Sirius started toward the door. Sirius – mainly for attacking him about which book Remus had gotten him – shucked his shirt and tossed it directly into James’ face.

 

James shot up, nearly falling from the bed, “For fuck’s sake, Padfoot, what do you have against letting the damned House Elves wash your clothes once a century?”

 

_Fuck. That was my Moony shirt_. Sirius remembered too late.

 

He managed to throw James a sarcastic military salute before he and Peter shut the door to the loo.

 

He didn’t waste any time, he disappeared behind the curtain in one of the shower stalls and sat down with his back to the cool wall. He cast an imperturbable charm on himself and started the water; it fell onto the charm and slid off, as if Sirius was incased in a solid bubble.

 

He slid the envelope out of his pocket and read the note on the outside again. Then, his fingers shaking a little, he broke the seal and pulled out the envelope’s thick contents.

 

He stopped breathing.

 

On top was a photograph; in it, Remus and Sirius stood in front of what used to be the kitchen of the flat above Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. The back wall, where the stove used to be, was completely blasted away and the room was covered in a thick purple goop.

 

Remus had his arm around Sirius’ shoulders, and Sirius had his around Remus’ waist. They were grinning, wide and happy. Then photo-Sirius turned and nipped at photo-Remus’ jaw and photo-Remus laughed, looking at him with a soppy sort of expression before pressing a kiss into his hair. Photo-Sirius closed his eyes, a thoroughly stupid-looking smile replacing the grin. Opening them again, he shot photo-Remus a look of great affection. Finally, they turned back to the camera and gestured excitedly at the hole over Sirius’ shoulder.

 

Real-Sirius felt a burning feeling behind his eyes. He tried in vain to swallow around the lump in his throat.

 

_Why the fuck did Remus give me this?_ He thought angrily, wiping furiously at his eyes with one hand.

 

He remembered that day well enough without this damned picture, thanks.

 

 

 

_“Remus wants anything_ except _for double-chocolate,” Sirius announced, slightly out of breath, slapping his palms dramatically onto the counter of the ice cream parlour._

_Florean looked at him, amused, and wiped his hands on his apron before digging around for his wand in the large pockets, “Please, Black, I know better than that after all these years.”_

_“No, really. He said just now that if he has to even_ look _at one more chocolate ice cream cone he’s going to do himself in,” Sirius insisted, grinning too wide to be telling the truth._

_“If you’ve ordered me something foul, I’ll murder you in your sleep,” Remus said conversationally as he opened the door to the shop, letting in a burst of hot mid-August air. Sirius’ heart did that weird little flip it’d been doing occasionally when he heard Remus’ voice. He didn’t mind._

_“Define ‘foul,’” Sirius asked._

_“Anything except for double-chocolate.”_

 

_Florean laughed at them, craning his neck around to look at the door, “Where are your other fourths?”_

_“Just us today,” Remus told him. “James is visiting relatives and Peter’s helping his mum.”_

_It was half true – James_ was _visiting relatives with his mum, but they hadn’t told Peter they were coming to Diagon Alley. It was hard to get time away from James to spend alone with Remus given Sirius lived at the Potters; Sirius wasn’t about to miss ready-made excuses._

_“So, what, the usual then? One double-chocolate cone and one vanilla-raspberry?” Florean asked, flicking his wand at the stationary ice scream scoopers._

_“Foul,” Remus sniffed at Sirius’ order._

_Sirius gasped, mock-offended. It wasn’t too convincing; lately Sirius had found it hard to look at Remus’ face without smiling like an idiot. It was making hanging out their mates really tough._

_As Sirius went to pay, and Remus opened his mouth to fight him, Florean paused in handing over the ice cream. “Say, you’re strong blokes,” he narrowed his eyes at them._

_“Er – thanks?” Remus said uncertainly._

_Florean cracked a smile, “What if I give you this ice cream for only a small favor.”_

_“Define small,” Sirius asked._

_“The last tenant for the flat upstairs had a potion explode everywhere a few days ago and then high tailed it out of there. An illegal potion, I assume, given the mess and damage. Nasty goo everywhere, stove destroyed, back wall blown out –”_

_“That sounds like Remus’ perfectly legal potion-making attempts,” Sirius interrupted._

_Remus scowled at him; he laughed._

_“Anyway, the stove can’t be moved by magic as a thieving precaution, and I’m not quite as young as I once was, so I two might help me get it out of there so I can start clearing up sometime soon?”_

_Sirius and Remus exchanged a look. Remus shrugged so Sirius turned back to Florean, “Sure, why not?”_

_Florean returned the ice cream to the freezer and led them around the counter and out a door in the back. Nearby, a staircase wound its way up to the second floor and, looking up, Sirius saw that the door it led to was wildly unnecessary given that much of the wall adjacent to it was now missing._

_Remus let out a low whistle._

_“I’m never letting this place out again,” Florean grumbled. “My wife convinced me to put it up for some extra galleons when we moved out a few years back and it’s been problem after problem ever since.”_

_They walked up the staircase and through the door. There was a sulfurous burning smell about the place, and Sirius wrinkled his nose against it as they tiptoed their way around goop to the kitchen._

_“Not a bad place, though,” Sirius said, impressed, looking around. There was a good-sized living area, a small hallway with two doors that Sirius guessed led to a bathroom and bedroom, and, ahead, the now-destroyed kitchen. For a one bedroom flat, it was pretty spacious._

_“Yeah,” Remus nodded. “I mean, could do with a wall right about here,” he gestured to the large hole in the wall and Florean shot him a dirty look. Sirius barked out a laugh._

_“Maybe one day I’ll get a place like this,” Sirius commented. “You know, after Hogwarts. I reckon I can’t trespass on the Potter’s kindness forever.”_

_“Again, I’d recommend a place with walls,” Remus muttered under his breath._

_Sirius grinned, “Nah, I’ll take it as is. Maybe I can get a cut on rent, eh?”_

_“Stove’s here,” Florean gestured to a semi-mangled appliance in front of the large hole._

_Sirius and Remus moved toward it, but Florean threw an arm out. “Wait, let me get a picture first, for the Ministry report.”_

_He pulled a camera out of his apron and snapped a few pictures with an instant-print camera. He set the images on the counter, but before he could put the camera away, Sirius asked, “Can you get a shot of us with it? The other lads will think this brilliant!”_

_Florean sighed in a put-upon way, “I imagine this will give Potter all sorts of terrible ideas, but…” he motioned in a way that told them to go ahead._

_Sirius pulled Remus over in front of the hole and Remus slipped his arms over Sirius’ shoulders automatically, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Sirius’ stomach flipped over and he wrapped his arm probably-too-tightly around Remus’ waist and grinned wide at the camera._

_Florean handed Remus the photo before it was fully developed and began magicking away with likely-dangerous goop so the boys could lift it safely. Remus shoved the photo in his back pocket and they both forgot about it until they were exiting the ice cream shop twenty minutes later, happily eating their ice cream cones._

_“I reckon Fortescue was right about this giving James some unfortunate ideas,” Remus said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the photo. They stopped walking to look at it._

_After a moment, Sirius laughed and Remus choked out “We can’t show this to Prongs!” in a high voice. “We can’t show this to anyone!”_

_“Bloody hell, what’s that face, Moony?” Sirius teased affectionately. “You’re looking at me like I just invented chocolate!” His whole body was glowing warm seeing that expression on Remus’ photo self. Merlin, Sirius had it bad._

_“Shut up,” Remus muttered, and Sirius grinned wider as Remus’ face turned pink. “You’re not much better, grinning wider than that time in fifth year when we convinced Madam Rosemerta to serve us firewhiskey.” He paused, watching the photo. “You randy bastard, can’t even keep your mouth to yourself in a bloody photo.”_

_“You want me to keep my mouth to myself?” Sirius raised his eyebrows at him._

_Remus looked up at him and said, very seriously, “Don’t you dare.”_

 

It’d become a thing after that. In particularly affectionate, sleepy moments, Remus would whisper, “ _Sirius, I’m pretty sure you invented chocolate._ ”

 

And Sirius would respond, “ _You’re better than firewhiskey._ ” And his chest would feel warm, as if he’d swallowed a large amount of the stuff itself.

 

Now, however, Sirius was telling himself to take deep breaths. He lay the papers from the envelope in his lap and smashed the heels of his palms into his eyes. _Stop it,_ he told himself furiously. _Don’t be pathetic_.

 

After a while, he managed to stop hyperventilating and he picked up the papers again, moving the picture out of sight to the back. On the next page was a longer letter from Remus. With a mixture of dread and anticipation pooling in his stomach, Sirius read:

 

_Sirius,_

_I owled Fortescue back in November, and after a lot of promises on my end and threats on his end (and a non-returnable security deposit - unless, of course, you don’t keep this), he agreed to let the flat to you after we graduate from Hogwarts. Moreover, he’s agreed to a discounted rate; apparently, the hole in the wall is all patched and the goop is gone, but there is still some renovation that needs to be done on the kitchen. I figured that if you were willing to do the renovation yourself (Marauder help included), the least he could do was cut you a break on rent._

_And you lot always rib me for getting along with authority figures – I told you it was useful._

_Anyway, the security deposit is part of this gift and the leasing agreement he and I drew up is here, too. I understand if you don’t want it anymore (maybe you never did in the first place), but I’d already set it up by the time that everything happened. I won’t be offended if you write him back and turn it down; no harm done._

_Happy Christmas, Sirius._

_-Remus_

 

 

 

Sirius stared at the paper, shocked dumb. He read it through again. And then one more time before shuffling the letter aside and paging through the five-page rental agreement.

 

Remus had gotten him a flat for Christmas.

 

A flat they’d seen together, had a photo in. The flat above the ice cream parlour in Diagon Alley was all his if he wanted it. Sirius wouldn’t have to ask the Potters to stay with them again after graduation; he wouldn’t be homeless.

 

He didn’t try to stop the tears when they came this time. He focused on breathing evenly, letting his hands with the papers fall into his lap as his head dropped back against the wall. He stared at the ceiling as the steam from the shower curled around him and tried to imagine living in that flat without Remus sharing his bed.

 

 

 

When he finally managed to pull himself together, he took the quickest shower of his life. He secured his towel around his waist then draped his sweatpants over his hand holding the letter and his wand. Somehow, he’d still managed to beat Peter out of the shower.

 

As soon as he was through the door, James turned around lightning fast and caught his eye. He looked a bit frantic. Sirius saw that James was waving a scroll of parchment at him.

 

Cocking an eyebrow at his mate, he took the note with the hand that wasn’t holding the other stuff and used his body as leverage to tear it open. Dumbledore’s too-familiar script left a a short message:

 

_Mr. Black,_

_If you could make your way to my office at your earliest convenience, there is an important matter I must discuss with you._

_Sincerely,_

_Professor Dumbledore_

_P.S. I quite enjoy Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum._

 

“He wants me to meet him in his office ‘at my earliest convenience,” Sirius muttered, his mind running through things that he could have possibly done to warrant a summons to Dumbledore’s office.

 

“What’d you do?” James asked him, his voice dropping an octave and coming from a puffed out chest.

 

Merlin, not the Big Bad Head Boy Voice. He was not in the mood to deal with that shit today.

 

He rolled his eyes and threw his note, wand, and sweatpants strategically onto his bed so the latter covered the two former, “Ugh, you sound like Moony,” he forced the usual jibe out of his mouth, but the words weren’t coming out right. “I didn’t do anything. At least not as far as I can remember.”

 

It was mostly true, he thought, as he walked over and dug bent over to dig through his trunk. After the-incident-that-shall-not-be-named at the end of his fifth year where he was _severely_ threatened with expulsion, he’d stayed mostly on the proper side of things. And then, when he and Remus had started whatever-it-was, Sirius’ troublemaking had further dropped off. He hadn’t done anything worse than trapping Mrs. Norris in an enlarged muggle fly trap since they’d returned for their seventh year.

 

Well, there was that thing with Benjy Fenwick last month. But as far as anyone could prove, the fact that the Ravenclaw had fallen onto the floor in the middle of a crowded corridor, getting kicked around a bit by bustling students, was pure coincidence. No one could _prove_ that there had been a trip jinx there; nor could anyone claim that Sirius hadn’t stepped on his hand (the same one Fenwick had decided to put on Remus’ shoulder moments before) completely by accident.

 

_Fucking Benjy Fenwick._

 

Sirius pulled out a pair of jeans and shook them out. Oh, wait, and the time Peeves had made up rhymes about Remus a few days ago. “Mighta locked Peeves in a suit of armor the other day, but let’s face it, that’s first year shit.”

 

_And he’d thoroughly deserved it, making up rhymes about ‘Loony, loopy, Lupin.’_

 

“What does he want then?” James demanded as Sirius stood up and pulled on the pair of pants he’d extracted from the bottom of his trunk.

 

“If I knew, I’d tell you,” he told his mate, with what Sirius thought was an exceptional show of patience, as he pulled his jeans over the pants. “Maybe he wants to make me Quidditch captain after your team nearly lost to Hufflepuff before break,” Sirius mused, mostly to annoy James-stupid-questions-Potter right back.

 

James scowled at him, “You’d have to be on the team for that, wanna try out?”

 

Sirius snorted, “And take orders from you? Pass.”

 

“Technically,” James began, puffing out his chest a bit again. “You already do because I’m –”

 

“If you say ‘Head Boy,’ I’m going to hex you in the face,” Sirius told him, using his _fucking try me_ voice. He shot a look over at Remus, who was looking at James, his sandy-blonde hair falling into his eyes. Just as Remus turned to look at him –

 

“Quit flirting,” Peter said from the door to the loo. Sirius jumped automatically, his face heating up. He dove toward his trunk to look for a shirt. “What’s this I hear about Dumbledore summoning us?”

 

“Not us, him,” James answered, his voice trailing off at the end of his sentence. Sirius’ face was still burning, and he was sure that James knew that Sirius was reacting badly to something. Sirius hoped that James put it down to the odd note from their headmaster.

 

“Moony, you up for a game of chess and some pie while Sirius gets expelled or some shit?” Sirius heard James ask Remus from over the sounds of some truly exceptional trunk-digging. He stopped digging with his left hand long enough to flash a finger up at James.

 

“Depends, are you going to flip the board if I beat you again?” Remus asked and Sirius, hearing the teasing lift of Remus’ voice, grinned at the bottom of the trunk. Then his stomach churned violently as his mind reminded him about Remus and the flat and the breakup. He redoubled his digging efforts, not even sure what he was looking for at this point, just sure that he didn’t want to look up yet.

 

“That was one time! Two years ago!” James squawked. Sirius and Peter chuckled. “I was having a bad day, okay? Merlin, I hate you all.”

 

“I know,” Remus answered, and Sirius _hated_ that he knew exactly what smile Remus was giving James right now. He _hated_ that as the image of it flashed in the front of his mind, his heart sped up.

 

James walked out of Sirius’ sight and before long, Sirius heard the door open and then close again. They were gone.

 

Sirius felt like he could breathe properly again without the suffocating feeling of Remus and the related Remus-feelings that came with seeing him, and took several deep breaths. He dropped back from his knees to sit on the floor, still without a jumper, and hung his head a bit while he caught his breath.

 

“You alright?” Peter asked from behind him.

 

“Yeah,” Sirius sat back up and ran a hand through his wet hair. “Can’t find a clean jumper,” he invented, turning to look at Peter, who had already dressed completely.

 

“Oh, shit, wait,” Sirius said, grinning. He hopped up and walked over to his bed, digging through the duvet and other presents until he found the thick, wooly sweater that Peter’s mum had knitted him for Christmas this year.

 

He held it up and Peter groaned. “She’s still sending you those?”

 

“She is!” Sirius said happily, pulling the blue sweater over his head. It had a badly formed hippogriff stitched into the front. “I write her every year to personally thank her for them.”

 

He looked up to Peter’s gobsmacked face, “Do you really?”

 

Sirius furrowed his brow at him, “‘Course I do. She’s the only one that’s ever knitted me anything. Mrs. Potter might’ve, only she’s pants at household spells.”

 

Peter continued to stare at him as if he’d proclaimed that he’d found a cure to the Dementor’s kiss as he pulled out a set of robes and pulled them on over his sweater, leaving them open. He always felt weird without robes on – a remnant of his pureblood upbringing that even James, who had been raised pureblood (though quite a different type of pureblood, to be sure), always teased him about. Besides, he was sure the walk through the castle was going to be chilly enough that he’d be grateful for the extra layer.

 

When Sirius turned back around, Peter was sitting on his bed, folding the sweater his mother knitted him with an odd expression on his face.

 

“Alright, Peter?” Sirius asked.

 

Peter looked up, “What? Oh, yeah.”

 

“Your mum’s okay?”

 

Peter nodded, “I think so. Her letter was…” he paused. “Well, she’s spending today with her parents and I think she had a lot of business leading up to Christmas, so that’s always nice.”

 

Sirius studied him, torn between asking more questions about whatever was clearly bothering Peter and running from the room before he gave Sirius something else to worry about.

 

A glance at the bed, where the thick folded parchment of Remus’ letter was sticking out from behind his sweatpants, made him decide that he, Sirius, had enough problems to be getting on with without Peter’s added to the mix. He picked up his wand, the letter, and the picture and shoved them all into the pocket of his robes.

 

“Well, if you write her today, tell her to expect a note from me soon, yeah?” Sirius said, running a hand through his damp hair.

 

Peter rolled his eyes at him, “Don’t you have a school to be kicked out of?”

 

“You’re all going to feel like shit if that’s what really happens,” Sirius told him, scowling slightly as his stomach dropped at the thought.

 

No. He hadn’t done anything. It couldn’t be that.

 

“Going to feel like I can finally get a moment of peace without objects flying around the room hitting people in the face, more like,” Peter muttered.

 

“What was that?” Sirius asked, already heading towards the door.

 

“Nothing, Padfoot,” Peter said, too sweetly.

 

Sirius shut the dormitory door behind him.

 

“Remember to put on your Innocent Face,” James called to him as he walked past his and Remus’ chess game in the Common Room.

 

As Sirius turned to look at him, Remus looked up from the board just long enough to say, “Good luck, Padfoot.”

 

Sirius’ stomach did a flip and then a swan dive. He waved a hand at them, “Don’t need it; didn’t do anything!” he said with more confidence than he felt.

 

He pulled his wand out of his pocket as he stepped through the Portrait Hole, and twirled it around his fingers as he walked. He kept up a mantra of _I didn’t do anything this time, I can’t be in trouble if I didn’t do anything_ in his head to drown out the nasty part of his brain that was asking what the fuck he was going to do if he got kicked out of Hogwarts.

 

Too soon, he reached the gargoyles outside the headmaster’s office and gave them the password. His nausea reached peak levels as he stood on the ascending stairs, and he tried again to convince himself that everything was fine. He _would not_ vomit in Dumbledore’s office; he would _absolutely not_.

 

He knocked once with the griffin knocker and was told to enter by a tired voice on the other side. Taking a deep breath in through his nose and shoving his wand back into his robes, Sirius pushed the door open.

 

“Mr. Black, Happy Christmas,” Dumbledore looked up from his desk, piled high with papers, and gave him a tight smile.

 

_Shit shit shit shit_.

 

“Happy Christmas, Professor.”

 

“Come in, have a seat,” Dumbledore gestured toward the two seats opposite his desk.

 

Sirius did as he was told. Dumbledore watched him as he sat down, and before the headmaster could break the silence, Sirius blurted, “Am I in trouble, sir?”

 

Dumbledore’s smile was a little more sincere this time, “No, Mr. Black, you are not in trouble.”

 

Sirius felt relief crash over him.

 

“Should you be?” Dumbledore asked, eying him.

 

Sirius laughed, feeling a bit giddy after all the worry, “No, sir. I’ve been behaving myself.”

 

Dumbledore fixed him with a vaguely skeptical look, but acquiesced, “I’m happy to say I have heard no reports to the contrary.”

 

“So,” Sirius said, looking briefly around at all the portraits that lined the walls. Almost directly behind him, his great-great grandfather’s portrait looked down on him with palpable dislike. Sirius scratched the back of his head with his middle finger as he turned back to look at his headmaster. “Why did you summon me, Professor?”

 

Dumbledore sighed, and shuffled a few of the papers on his desk to the front of the pile before meeting Sirius’ eye again, “I’m sorry to have frightened you, Mr. Black, but I cannot say that this subject will be more welcome than what you feared. Generally, this sort of notification is left to the Heads of Houses, but as your relationship with your immediate family is complicated, I thought it best if I had this conversation with you personally.”

 

Sirius’ mind presented terrible ideas to him, one after another, before settling on a truly horrific one. He’d seen it happen over the last few terms – students disappearing to talk to McGonagall or Flitwick or Sprout and not return, or turn up later in the day, eyes red and cheeks damp.

 

Someone he knew had been killed.

 

His stomach filled with lead, “No,” he said, panicking. “Who? Are the Potters okay? You said –  my immediate family – but the Potters – they’re okay, right? I mean, James would be here if –”

 

“The Potters are fine, Mr. Black,” Dumbledore interjected.

 

Sirius nodded, the panic subsiding a little. “Who?” he managed to ask again.

 

“Your Uncle, Alphard Black, was found early this morning by Aurors,” Dumbledore told him.

 

“By Aurors,” Sirius repeated through his shock. “You mean… there must have been – the Dark Mark?”

 

“I am truly sorry, Mr. Black.”

 

Sirius looked away from him, out onto the grounds.

 

Uncle Alphard had been one of the good ones. When Sirius was little, Alphard used to escape upstairs during the fancy parties to the room where Sirius and Regulus were told to stay out of the way. He would entertain them with fantastic stories, not the usual blood purity nonsense they got from their own parents, but proper ones about unicorns and battles and brave Aurors who saved the world before flying into the night on hippogriffs. Sometimes, if Sirius’ mother was too drunk or too busy to notice that Alphard had gone missing, his uncle would even tuck them into bed and tell them that one day, they’d grow up and be brave and could choose whatever path in life they wanted.

 

Sirius didn’t think much of those proclamations then, but when he was sorted into Gryffindor Alphard had written him every week during that first year and told Sirius that he was brave and that he, Alphard, was proud of him for choosing his own path.

 

“Someone in my family did it,” Sirius said, dully, knowing it was true. He knew from the letters he had received sporadically throughout the year that Alphard was in hiding for turning down the Death Eaters. Sirius had gathered that many of his extended family considered this base treachery.

 

“We cannot say for certain,” Dumbledore said softly.

 

Sirius turned to look at him, “I can.”

 

Dumbledore looked at him, his blue eyes sad but not pitying. Sirius appreciated that.

 

After a beat of silence, the headmaster looked down at the papers in front of him, “One of the reasons I wanted to do this myself is because of the inheritance.”

 

Sirius blinked, “The what?”

 

Dumbledore looked up, “Alphard Black has left all of his possessions and all of his gold to you and you alone.”

 

Sirius’ eyes widened, “He _didn’t_.”

 

“He did indeed,” Dumbledore nodded. “There is a paragraph in his Last Will and Testament that specified this in addition to telling your mother several things she could go do, none of which I shall repeat for the sake of modesty.”

 

Sirius let out a choked laugh, disbelieving, “He’ll get blasted off the tree for that!”

 

Dumbledore gave him a small smile, not understanding the significance of the Black Family Tree, nor the lengths to which one would have to go to get blasted off of it. As far as Sirius knew, the only two who had managed thus far were himself and Andromeda.

 

_And now Alphard, the crazy bastard._

 

He felt a pang in his chest as he realized that he hadn’t even replied to his uncle’s last letter. It had arrived about two weeks ago; with the term wrapping up and then the Remus stuff happening, it had completely slipped his mind.

 

“As I was saying,” Dumbledore said, gently pulling Sirius back to the matter at hand. “Alphard was only found a couple of hours ago. Luckily for us, he was found by Aurors I know rather well.

 

These Aurors brought the matter to me before the paperwork is filed, so that you and I may discuss how to proceed before next of kin notifications begin. This is an advantage because, though you are of age, I believe there are strings your parents could pull to rid you of this inheritance if we do not act swiftly.”

 

Sirius nodded, his head spinning.

 

Dumbledore dived into the particulars, and Sirius tried his best to follow. Dumbledore, in his capacity as Chief Warlock would, with Sirius’ permission, sign Alphard’s Gringotts vault over to Sirius’ name. This would not only give Sirius his own vault, which he currently did not have, but would prevent his parents from accessing it without Sirius’ express permission. As Alphard had been on the run for the last year or so, he did not have many possessions, but those too would be rounded up and stored in the vault until such time as Sirius could go through them and sell or put them to use.

 

Sirius signed the necessary papers, Dumbledore signed on as witness and Chief Warlock, and then, quite suddenly, it was all done.

 

“I shall give you the keys to your vault as soon as I procure them,” Dumbledore said, rolling up the parchment.

 

Sirius nodded, “Thanks, Professor.”

 

Dumbledore looked up at Sirius as the younger man stood to leave.

 

“I didn’t know Alphard Black well, Sirius, but if he cared for you as this proves he does, he must have been a good man. He, Andromeda, and yourself are proof that you cannot judge someone on their surname,” the headmaster said softly.

 

Sirius felt a lump forming in his throat; everything that had happened so far today was _too much_. The room felt hot, stuffy, suffocating. He nodded again.

 

“I am sorry for your loss,” Dumbledore briefly lowered his head.

 

“Thanks for this, sir,” Sirius managed to keep his voice even. He turned to go, and when Dumbledore didn’t say anything else, nearly tripped in his haste to get out of the room.

 

Once he was at the bottom of the staircase, he leaned against the wall and took deep, calming breaths of the chilly castle air.

 

He thought of going back to the Common Room, of pulling James up to the dormitory so that he could yell and rage and maybe even fucking cry a bit until he felt better about the whole thing. James had always been good for that – listening to Sirius’ shitty family rants and dealing with emotions and telling Sirius that it was alright and that he didn’t need them because he had the Marauders and the Potters now. Since first year, Sirius had gone to James when his family or his emotions became _too much_.

 

But then… Sirius thought of dragging _Remus_ up to the dormitory so that he could rage and yell and maybe even fucking cry. Thought about how Remus would hold him tight and kiss his head and tell him that it was unfair that Sirius had to deal with this. Sirius would laugh because Remus Werewolf Lupin was saying that _Sirius_ had it bad, which was ridiculous because at least he didn’t tear himself to shreds every month, but that would put it all into fucking perspective, wouldn’t it?

 

The picture those thoughts created in Sirius’ mind made him feel better, made him feel calmer, and he had pushed himself off of the wall and taken a few steps before he realized with a crashing sort of feeling that Remus didn’t want him anymore.

 

That, if anything, was unfair: Remus whispering _Sirius, I’m pretty sure you invented chocolate_ two nights before _Sirius, we can’t do this anymore._

 

Sirius swore loudly and, ignoring the gargoyles when they told him off for it, strode away from them. He didn’t think he could be around anyone just now.

 

A few minutes later, Sirius collapsed back onto his favorite window ledge and pulled his legs up until his feet pressed against one side of the window and his back against the other. He looked out over the grounds; the lake spread out in front of him, students slipping and sliding over its surface in the midst of a snowball fight. They weren’t much more than blurs at this distance, but Sirius, as the instigator of many a snowball fight in his day, knew they were enjoying their Christmas more than he was enjoying his.

 

Sirius looked away and let his head fall against the rock at his back and closed his eyes, crossing one leg on the sill and stretching the other out at a slight angle.

 

He liked this window ledge on the fourth floor for many reasons. One was for its width; Sirius could sit on it and, even with his bag beside him, he still had enough room that he didn’t feel about to fall off. It was also long enough that his legs didn’t have to be bent at too much an angle when his feet were against the opposite side.

 

The view out the window was nice, too. He opened his eyes and rolled his head to the side so that he could just see the quidditch pitch if he squinted out over the lake.

 

More, this window was off a quiet corridor full of classrooms that hadn’t been used in a while. The only regularly used part of the corridor was the mirror down the way from his window that concealed a passage into Hogsmeade – and the Marauders were the only ones that knew about that, as far as Sirius was aware – meaning that no one usually bothered him here.

 

Sirius took a deep breath and tried to keep his mind blank for just a second, just a bloody _second_. He didn’t want to think of Alphard or his other, shittier relatives or Remus or _anything_. This was where he went to be alone, to think, to find inner goddamn peace. In the pocket of his open robes, he absentmindedly fiddled with the thick wad of parchment that was his gift from Remus.

 

He stared out at the quidditch pitch, thinking about dragging James out to play later so that he could distract himself for a while. Quite suddenly, his mind presented him a different, rather more distracting, quidditch memory.

 

 

 

_Though it was going on a year since he realized that he fancied Remus, the sight of him shirtless still had the ability to raise Sirius’ heart rate. Honestly, it made sharing a dorm with him pretty uncomfortable… though he assumed it gave his heart a good workout. It was definitely pushing blood to certain parts of his anatomy more often and at increasingly embarrassing times._

_Relatedly, when Sirius and Remus had been pronounced the ‘skins’ to James and Peter’s ‘shirts’ for a two-on-two quidditch match one scorching July afternoon after their sixth year, Sirius found himself very distracted. He’d tried pointing out that, as there were only four of them, it was pretty easy to remember who was on whose team, but James had shouted something about doing the thing properly - which apparently meant two of them had to be shirtless._

_Remus, who was usually the shyest about losing clothing (though Sirius could not for the life of him understand why), had just shrugged in an it’s-better-not-to-fight-him sort of way, slipped his shirt over his head before dropping it to the ground, and then mounted his broom and pushed off. He was nearly to one cluster of the hoops the Potter’s had erected in the back acres of their property before Sirius managed to calm his heartbeat, remove his own shirt, and fly after him._

_Now, about an hour into the match, Sirius and Remus were losing spectacularly. Usually, the matches were close with James being the best, Peter being a damn liability, and Sirius and Remus both falling somewhere in the middle. Today, however, Sirius had missed a number of goals (one flying passed him unawares when Remus had reached up to try to block James and his muscles flexed and Sirius couldn't tear his eyes away) and fumbled a few passes from Remus for no real reason other than his body apparently hated him._

_They called the match when the score was 270 - 90._

_“Did you leave the bit of your brain that knew how to play quidditch behind when you apparated to the pitch? Because you should really report that, I’m sure it’s not too late to get it back,” James landed next to Sirius in the middle of the pitch._

_“That was a stupidly long-winded insult, Prongs,” Sirius grumbled._

_“Wormtail scored on you, Pads, and he couldn’t score on Nearly Headless Nick,” James went on._

_Sirius and Peter both showed him middle fingers. Remus laughed, taking off his helmet and shaking his sweaty hair out of his eyes._

_“Just had an off day,” Sirius told them, trying not to stare at Remus and his stupidly sculpted body and brilliant face. He would have been able to play correctly if Remus had just put his goddamn shirt on. Probably._

_“Well, you know the rules: losers return the equipment, winners get first crack at food!” James dropped his gear, and Peter followed his example._

_With sarcastic little waves and loud_ crack _s, both disapparated back to the house to bother the house elves into feeding them an early dinner. Sirius and Remus were left to walk the bulky equipment back to the guest house, where a room was dedicated to its storage._

_The sun was still shining brightly in the sky, baking Sirius’ skin to an olive color and sending beads of sweat running down his face and chest. Groaning, Sirius pulled off his helmet and gloves, dropped them on the ground and collapsed next to them, throwing one arm over his face. “It’s too hot, Moony, I can’t move!”_

_Remus chuckled, and Sirius heard his gear hit the ground before Remus sat beside his waist. Sirius peeked at him and noted the strong muscles and scars that crisscrossed his back. He was sitting with his arms resting on his bent knees, running a hand through his sweaty hair, causing it to stick up straight. He hadn’t replaced his shirt yet._

_Sirius pulled himself up to sit beside him. He folded his legs underneath himself and squinted at the guest house in the distance._

_“Is it just me or does the guest house look farther away than it was an hour ago?” Remus asked him, also glaring out at it. He plucked a fat blade of grass out of the ground and began shredding it._

_“Definitely farther,” Sirius answered._

_“Thought so.”_

_Sirius found himself staring again. Remus’ skin looked a bit pink, even though he’d set a sun-screening charm on himself before they came out. It was just after the new moon, so Remus was as healthy as he ever was. His cheeks were flushed from the game and the muscles in his arms tightened and loosened as he continued shredding the blade of grass._

_God, Sirius was so fucked. What had he done to deserve having a crush on one of his best mates?_

_His mind presented him with several bad acts in answer of that question, but he pushed them all away._

_“What?” Remus asked, catching his eye and pulling him from his shameful thoughts._

_Sirius felt the blood rush to his cheeks, “Er - is that new?” he asked, reaching out and running a finger over a scar that covered Remus’ shoulder and the upper part of his arm._

_Had he imaged it, or had Remus just shivered?_

_“Um, no, I don’t think so,” Remus furrow his brow, looking at it. “I think James got me with an antler in the spring.”_

_“Right,” Sirius swallowed. He looked up and caught Remus’ eye again before the werewolf turned back to the last bit of grass in his hand._

_He tore it in half, dropped both pieces, and spoke to the ground, “I can put my shirt on, I know they’re kind of gruesome.”_

_He made to stand up, but Sirius put a hand on his shoulder and held him down._

_“Remus, no,” he said. “You’re beau - perf - they’re not bad.” He finished lamely._

_His entire mind was kicking itself._ So, so fucked. This stupid crush is going to end me.

_Sirius Black doesn’t_ get _crushes. He snogs the shit out of whomever he found attractive at the time and then he fucking leaves. He doesn’t_ stutter _. Bloody hell._

 

_Remus was looking at him with a funny expression now; he sucked his lower lip under his teeth. Sirius’ entire consciousness groaned._

_“I just meant... they don’t bother me, you should know that by now,” Sirius managed to tell him sincerely._

_Remus finally smiled at him, “Thanks, Padfoot. Not to sound like a nancy or anything, but I get self-conscious about having a body that looks like it was fed through a wood chipper.”_

_Sirius didn’t know what a ‘wood chipper’ was, but he didn’t much care because Remus was looking at him fondly and his lips were full and curved up the tiniest bit and his eyes were all crinkly like they got when he was really happy and, goddamnit, Sirius felt his carefully cultivated self-control crack and fall to pieces._

_His hand was still on Remus’ shoulder, and he tightened his fingers on it, leaned forward and just did it. Kissed him. His lips were pressed against Remus’ soft ones for only two seconds before he realized what the fuck he was doing and pulled back jerkily._

_Remus’ eyes were wide and his mouth open the slightest bit. Sirius quickly withdrew his hand from his shoulder and ran it through his hair. Why didn’t the earth open and swallow a bloke whole when he needed it to?_

_“You just - we - um - what was that, Sirius?” Remus stuttered at him, his voice an octave higher than usual._

_“I’m so sorry,” Sirius said, rolling up onto his knees and facing Remus. “I don’t know, I’m sorry, I’ve - fuck - I had it under control, I really did and then -”_

_“What?” Remus cut across him sharply. “Had what under control?”_

_Sirius was so embarrassed that he almost forgot Remus was shirtless. Almost. “Okay, don’t hit me, but, well, I kind of developed this… er… I’d begun to fancy you a bit. I’ll - I’ll stay away from you if you want.”_

_Remus looked like Sirius had smacked him.  “You fancy_ me _?”_

_“Look, let’s just forget this ever happened. No one knows about anything, I’ll just obliviate myself and -”_

 

_He didn’t get to finish his sentence, though, because Remus reached a hand to the back of his neck and pulled him forward until their lips met again, teeth knocked together, Sirius’ hand went out to steady himself on Remus’ knee._

_A million thoughts ran through Sirius’ mind in that moment. Sirius had kissed his fair share of people in his life, but nothing,_ nothing _, compared to kissing Remus. How the bloody hell did Remus learn to snog like this? What was this warm feeling pooling near his navel? Remus did realize what he was doing, right? That he was snogging Sirius, who was another bloke…_

_They broke apart, the weather no longer the only reason they were hot and bothered._

_“Fuck,” Sirius said breathlessly. His vocabulary seemed to have shrunk to mostly include that word today._

_“Sorry,” Remus said sheepishly, tugging on his bottom lip with his teeth again._

_“You better not be,” Sirius said, searching his face, worried._

_“I’m not,” Remus grinned slyly, crossing his legs and using the hand that wasn’t on Sirius’ neck to pull Sirius into his lap._

_Sirius happily straddled him, “Huh. It’s weird to be the one in this position.” He traced Remus’ shoulders with his fingertips._

_Remus shivered and blushed, “We can, erm -”_

_“Moony, I want to snog you again,” Sirius roughly kissed his jaw. He tasted like salt. “Is that what you want?” He planted a rough kiss behind his ear before looking at Remus._

_Remus too pulled back and studied Sirius. Sirius arched an eyebrow at him._

_Remus then told him exactly what he wanted. It was a sentence so dirty, so un-Remus-like, that Sirius’ jaw dropped and the blood immediately began to drain from his face and into another more important part of his body._

_“Fuck,” Sirius said, low and gravelly, before he pulled Remus’ mouth to his again._

_“What took you guys so long?” James said from behind a large plate of sandwiches as Remus and Sirius walked into the kitchen looking happier than they had looked when James had left them._

_“Ran into your great-great uncle in the guesthouse,” Sirius lied easily as he fell into the chair beside James. The Potter’s guest house was haunted by the ghost of James’ great-great uncle, who had died there and somehow not been found for three weeks._

_“He gave us a rather riveting lecture on using his old bedroom to store our quidditch gear,” Remus added, pulling a sandwich off the pile and taking a bite._

_James groaned, “Sucks that Mum says it’s the only room that already stinks bad enough to hold our gear without suffering permanent damage.”_

_Sirius shrugged, “Wasn’t too bad.” He caught Remus’ eye and smirked._

_“No, I actually rather enjoyed it.”_

_Sirius hid his smile behind a sandwich._

 

 

 

“Black!”

 

Someone was yelling very close to him. Sirius jumped and nearly fell off his extra-large window ledge. He looked around wildly and saw Lily Evans standing only feet from him, unwrapping a scarf from around her neck and shoving it into the pocket of her coat.

 

“Evans?” Sirius said dumbly.

 

“I’ve been saying your name for two minutes,” Lily told him, narrowing her eyes. “What’s that?”

 

Sirius looked at his hand and saw that he was holding the picture of him and Remus in his lap. He didn’t remember pulling it out.

 

He shoved it back in his pocket, running his other hand through his hair, “Nothing,” he lied. “Sorry, zoned out there.” He looked back at her. Her cheeks and nose were flushed and she was unzipping her heavy winter coat. “Where are you coming from? What are you doing here?” He asked suspiciously, shooting a glance at the passage-hiding mirror. It’d be just like James to tell her about that damn thing, wouldn’t it?

 

“Nothing,” she said just as quickly as he had. He raised his eyebrows at her. She raised hers back.

 

Fair enough.

 

Sirius finally let out a laugh, “How is it always you that finds me when I’m here, Evans?”

 

One time, nearly a year ago, Sirius had been hiding from everyone in this very spot and she had come around trying to tell him off for being out past curfew. It was one of the only times he’d ever had an honest-to-Merlin conversation with her, and he’d ended up revealing more than he’d meant to. Somehow, he had never been able to bring himself to regret it though.

 

Lily grinned back at him and walked over to the window, pulling on his legs until he sighed and swung them around so they dangled over the floor and Lily could sit next to him. She jumped up and then turned to scrutinize him.

 

“What’s wrong?” she asked as the dampness of her coat seeped through Sirius’ robes.

 

“Noth-”

 

“I didn’t fall for that a year ago, and I’m not going to now, Black,” she told him sternly. Damn, she even had a Big Bad Head Girl voice. No wonder James was nuts for her. “You look like you haven’t slept in ages and also like someone just killed your owl and made you watch.”

 

Sirius didn’t say anything, he looked at his feet. His mind was having a raging debate about whether or not he should say anything. He certainly wasn’t about to tell her about his uncle – hell, he hadn’t properly dealt with that information himself – but maybe… She had been quite helpful the last time he confided in her about his stupid love life. However, it’s not like Lily Evans was his mate or anything. They were acquaintances, at best.

 

And yet.

 

She was the only one who knew, really. Her. Not James, not Peter, but Lily Bloody Evans.

 

He sighed, and without looking up from his feet, “Remember what I told you about last time?”

 

Sirius felt her nod, “Still having boy troubles?” she asked quietly.

 

He almost laughed. He could not believe he was here _again_. He could not believe that _Lily Prefect Evans_ was the only person (excepting his partners) who knew that he fancied blokes.

 

“You could say that,” Sirius mumbled. He finally looked up at her. She was watching him with an expression that he didn’t often see from her – well, not from her _towards him_. She was watching him with a very kindly expression.

 

“That bloke I told you about a year ago,” Sirius went on. Lily nodded again. “Well, we got together over the summer – turns out you were right, I guess. He did fancy blokes.” Lily smirked at him. He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, everything was perfect, really. Okay, maybe not perfect because the sneaking around bit was annoying, but apart from that it was really great.”

 

Sirius felt a stupid smile overtake his face at the thought and he started playing with the edge of the photo in his pocket again.

 

“Did you have a fight recently?” Lily prodded, after a few moments silence.

 

Sirius’ smile disappeared, “Not so much as a fight as much as an ‘it’s not you it’s me.’”

 

“Remus broke up with you?” Lily asked, dumbfounded.

 

Sirius nodded, “Yeah, he said it was too risky what with – _wait, what?_ ” He turned his head to face her so quickly he nearly hit his head against the side of the window.

 

Lily smacked a hand over her mouth, eyes wide as she looked back at him.

 

“How did you – what – did he – _what_?” Sirius couldn’t even form coherent thoughts. Lily had just said Remus, hadn’t she? She _knew_? Sirius sure as hell hadn’t told her – he’d been very careful last time to not even _hint_ at who they were talking about.

 

Could Remus have told her?

 

No. No way. Remus was so freaked out by anyone finding out about them that he’d fucking ended it, there’s no way…

 

“I’m sorry, Black, I didn’t mean to –” she broke off, moving her hand from her mouth. “No one told me. I – er – I worked it out.”

 

“When?” Sirius asked sharply.

 

Lily shrugged, “October?”

 

“I – _what?_ ” Sirius stuttered. “How?”

 

Lily rolled her eyes, “It wasn’t that hard, if you paid attention. I already knew that _you_ were into blokes ‘cause you told me, so that helped. And then Remus had returned from summer hols in a better mood than I’d ever seen him, but clammed up whenever I asked him about it. Once I had an inkling, I watched you two together and, I mean…”

 

Sirius gaped at her. His heart was pounding.

 

“Who else knows?” he said, his voice sounding a bit too frightened for his liking.

 

“What?” Lily furrowed her brows.

 

“Who did you tell!?” Sirius demanded, louder.

 

Lily recoiled from him as she shot, “No one!” at him. At first, he thought his outburst had frightened her; he quickly realized that she had actually recoiled in anger, not fright, when she scowled at him and ground out, “Do you really think I would do that?”

 

Sirius looked at her, trying to see if she was telling the truth.

 

“Oh, bugger off, Black,” Lily continued, taking in his skeptical expression. “If I was going to tell someone, I would have done it long before I figured out it was Remus, don’t you think? Why keep a secret for eight months and then spread it as soon as I figure out it would hurt one of my good friends?”

 

Sirius stared at her. She did seem legitimately offended. Something in Sirius’ chest tugged hard and he realized that, staring into her stupidly green eyes, he believed her. He trusted her.

 

I mean, obviously he did if he’d admitted to her that he fancied a bloke all the way back in February.

 

His eyes softened, “Sorry, Evans, you’re right.”

 

Lily’s eyebrows shot up again, “Sorry? You?”

 

Sirius half-grinned, “Don’t get used to it.”

 

“Of course not,” she grinned back at him.

 

They sat in silence for a beat and then she bumped his arm with hers, “I’m sorry Remus ended things.”

 

“Me, too,” Sirius said. And then, deciding he might as well fess up to everything now that she already knew the big secret, he pulled the photograph out of his pocket and handed it to her.

 

She took it, shooting him a confused look before looking down at it. He watched her mouth unfurl into a grin as photo-Remus pressed a kiss to photo-Sirius’ temple. She snorted as they began to gesture to the giant hole in the wall.

 

“Remus got me that apartment for Christmas,” Sirius told her quietly.

 

“What?” Lily gasped, looking up at Sirius and then back at the picture.

 

Sirius told her everything. The whole story. How they had gone in for ice cream, helped out Florean, gotten the picture for James and Peter only to realize they could never show it to anyone. What Remus had done in securing the apartment for him.

 

“Damn,” Lily swore, her own voice barely above a whisper.

 

“Yeah,” Sirius swallowed hard.

 

Lily finally met his eyes as she handed the picture back, “I wish I could say something to make it better for you, Black. I know that Remus really cares about you – well, I already knew that and I can tell from all this.” She gestured towards the picture and Sirius.

 

Sirius nodded as he pocketed the photo again. He felt better after talking it through with someone, but he also felt like something had slotted into place that he’d rather not have realized. He ignored it for the time being.

 

They sat in silence for a while, but when Sirius glanced over a Lily, he could tell there was something else on her mind. There were wrinkles etched into her forehead and her mouth was pulled into a tight line.

 

“Go on,” Sirius told her. She looked up at him. “Spit it out.”

 

“I –” she started, then looked down again and twisted her hands together.

 

“I haven’t got all day, Evans,” Sirius said, his voice not sounding nearly as annoyed as he’d meant it to.

 

She snorted, then met his eyes. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

 

Sirius raised an eyebrow at her, “You mean apart from all the ones you’ve already asked me in the last ten minutes?”

 

She nodded, “It’s about something else.”

 

Sirius’ curiosity began fighting a valiant battle with his sense of self-preservation. Lily was clever, and it was always dangerous to let clever people ask you personal questions. In the end, though, the curiosity somehow won out. Sirius nodded back at her, “Let’s hear it then.”

 

Lily took a breath, looking like she was trying to get the words just right. “If you could go back, if you could do it again, would you make more of an effort to stay close to your brother? After you were sorted into Gryffindor and he into Slytherin, I mean?”

 

Whatever Sirius had been expecting, it sure as fuck wasn’t that. Hell, he’d been trying to get people to forget that he had a brother for the last few years – ever since the prat started hanging out with a group of Slytherins who were too interested in the Dark Arts.

 

“Where’s that coming from?” Sirius asked, stalling instead of contemplating a truthful answer to her question.

 

Lily shuffled back further onto the window ledge so that the backs of her knees were flush against the corner of it. She ran a hand through her long hair and took a deep breath. “Did you know that I have a sister?” she asked him.

 

Sirius turned to look back at her, “Vaguely.”

 

“I don’t talk about her much,” Lily told him. “We were really close when I was little. When I got my Hogwarts letter, that all changed. She started calling me a freak, said she hated me. Every time I get home and start telling Mum or Dad about school, she scoffs and leaves the room.”

 

“She sounds like a bitch,” Sirius commented truthfully.

 

Lily shot him a dirty look. He shrugged.

 

“She’s getting married on New Year’s Eve,” Lily went on. “I was supposed to go home for the holidays and attend, but she and I got in a huge fight via owl post and she told me not to bother. That the wedding would be better _without her freak sister there to mess everything up anyway_.”

 

Sirius whistled low.

 

“Yeah,” she said, sounding uncharacteristically small.

 

“So, what, you want my advice on shitty siblings?”

 

“I… Well, James thinks that I should go home anyway, if I can. He thinks that I should patch it up with Petunia; says that, the way I talk about how close we were, I’ll regret it if I don’t try.”

 

Sirius scoffed, “James and his happy bloody childhood.”

 

Lily finally looked up at him and let out a laugh, “It’s a bit disgusting, isn’t it?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

“What do you think?” Lily said after a beat of silence. “Do you think he’s right? Is it worth it to even try, if she says she hates me?”

 

Sirius looked behind her, out the window, and considered.

 

Regulus and Sirius _had_ been close growing up. Hiding from the adults their parents entertained at their fancy parties; having pretend duels with toy wands, ducking around furniture and accidentally shattering vases. Alphard used to find the brothers trying to hide the evidence of those broken vases and would always repair it with a smile and a wave of his wand.

 

But, then, Sirius was sorted in to Gryffindor. Regulus hadn’t been allowed to owl him after that. By the time Sirius had returned home for the summer holiday, his parents had convinced Regulus that Sirius was ungrateful – that he, Regulus, was to be a better son, an obedient son. That all of those things meant he must leave Sirius alone.

 

Regulus had mostly listened to their parents, but occasionally he would slip into Sirius’ bed at night and ask about Hogwarts. Sirius would weave him stories about the yet-unnamed Marauders and staircases that moved or went to different places on different days or disappeared altogether. Sirius would tell him to just wait, that everything was better at Hogwarts.

 

And then Regulus had been sorted into Slytherin.

 

It was something that Sirius didn’t think about much; it hurt, and there was no way to change things now, even if he wanted to. But if there were a way… if there was something he could do that would patch things up… would he?

 

His chest twinged.

 

“Damnit, Evans,” he mumbled, looking back over at her.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking like she knew exactly what he was feeling. With a jolt, Sirius realized that she probably did.

 

“I would,” Sirius admitted. She seemed to struggle to take a deep breath. “If I could go back, do it again, yeah, I would. I hate that he got dragged into all that shit after I left for Hogwarts and got sorted. I wish I’d tried harder to talk to him that year, and that summer, and the ones after it. I wish I’d made sure he wasn’t only hearing my parents’ side of things. That way, even if everything still turned out like it did, at least I could look at him and know I tried my fucking best and that the rest was his decision.”

 

Lily nodded and looked down at her hands.

 

“But,” Sirius went on. “I don’t know you well enough to say if you’ll regret it, do I? I know that you’re generally a kind person, and that you’re loyal as hell – almost to a fault when you get stubborn about it. Those things make me think that James might be right. He’s better with feelings and shit like that anyway – and you can damn well tell him I said that, the emotional prat.”

 

Lily snorted.

 

“It’s something that you’ve ultimately got to answer yourself, isn’t it? In my experience, it’s easy to regret things in hindsight, but you only get one chance to do it so you won’t have to regret it at all.”

 

Lily nodded at her hands again.

 

“Sorry I can’t be more help,” Sirius found himself saying, looking at her dejected expression.

 

She looked up and gave him a small smile, “No, you were helpful, actually.” She told him, “Really helpful.”

 

Sirius wasn’t sure if he believed her.

 

The silence was a bit awkward after the emotional conversation she’d just demanded of him. In retaliation, and to lighten the mood, Sirius went for a slight subject change, “So, _James_ , then?” he said, shooting her a wide grin and waggling his eyebrows.

 

Lily’s eyes went wide and she quickly looked away from him, her cheeks coloring the tiniest bit, “What about him?” she said, her voice shifty.

 

Sirius grinned, “Please, Evans, you’ve just asked me about two very personal things and now –”

 

“Are you hungry? I’m starved,” Lily suddenly jumped off the window ledge, her cheeks quickly rounding pink and heading straight for red.

 

“We can walk to Christmas dinner, but you’re talking on the way there,” Sirius told her, narrowing his eyes and following her down the corridor.

 

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

 

“What’d you think of your gift, then? Apart from his stupid happily-ever-after childhood advice, of course,” Sirius asked, falling into stride beside her.

 

He saw her grin automatically, a sappy sort of thing that Sirius wouldn’t have believed her capable of.

 

“It was brilliant,” she admitted quietly.

 

Sirius laughed, “It better have been, he only spent ages on it.” He shot a glace her way, “You fancy him then?” he asked bluntly.

 

It was Lily’s turn to splutter, “What – you can’t just – I –”

 

“After what I just told you, I can _just_ and I will _just_!”

 

Lily shot him a glare that would have turned a lesser man to stone. Sirius wasn’t fazed; he’d been on the receiving end of Evans-Glares for six years now.

 

Upon realizing that he wasn’t backing down, Lily sighed. “Fine,” she gritted out. “Yes, okay? I’ve been dropping hints the size of dragons, but James seems perfectly content to ignore them and I – _what are you laughing at_?” Lily stopped walking around rounded on him, cheeks red, hair smacking her in the face before falling around her shoulders.

 

“Merlin, Evans, I thought you were supposed to be clever!” Sirius choked out, still laughing.

 

“Black,” Lily said, drawn out low and dangerous.

 

“Okay, okay,” Sirius pulled himself together. “It’s just, Prongs isn’t about to make a move on you until he’s about eight thousand percent sure it’s what you want, and maybe not even then.”

 

Lily’s face went from angry and embarrassed to confused, “What? Why not?” It passed confused and went to horror, “Shit, did I miss it? Did I miss my chance?”

 

Sirius sobered up completely, knowing that James would happily skin him alive if he ever heard that Sirius had misdirected Lily about his intentions.

 

“Fuck no,” he said quickly. “Evans, c’mon, I know you’re not this slow.” She scowled at him again. “I only meant that, well, he’s finally got you hanging around with him, hasn’t he? He’s finally your mate and all that. You two hang out after your little Ass-Kissing Meetings and you sit on the couch with him in the Common Room and flirt with him at the House Table.”

 

“Yeah, exactly, I thought he’d get that –”

 

“ _You’re_ not getting it,” Sirius explained. “He’s not going to risk all that by asking you out again! What if it backfires? He’s probably convinced himself that he’s making up all these signs you’ve been dropping or something. You’ve shot him down too many times for him to risk everything just because you’re being friendly.”

 

Lily thought about this. Sirius saw comprehension dawn on her face. “Oh,” she said softly. “ _Oh_.”

 

“Yeah, _oh_ ,” Sirius smiled. “To be frank, short of you climbing on top of him and snogging him senseless, I don’t think he’s going to act on your ‘hints’ any time soon, Evans.”

 

“I’m an idiot.”

 

“I’ve been saying it for years,” Sirius sighed, shaking his head.

 

Lily smacked his arm.

 

Sirius smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets as they started walking again, finally nearing the staircase into the Entrance Hall.

 

“Hey,” Lily said quietly as they made their way down. Sirius turned to her. “Thanks,” she smiled at him.

 

He grinned back, surprised that Lily Evans had managed to put him in better mood, “You, too.” They stepped off the last stair, “You know, you’re really not that bad when –”

 

“Lily! Lily, wait!”

 

They both turned. Severus Snape was emerging from the staircase that led down to the dungeons. Sirius scowled and immediately began running through a list of useful spells in his mind.

 

“What do you want, Snape?” Lily said, her voice itself was a warning. Sirius was impressed with her tone.

 

Snape seemed to falter upon hearing her response and seeing her standing close to Sirius.

 

_Good_. Sirius thought.

 

For some reason, the git plowed on, “I’d like a word.”

 

“And I’d like a pet hippogriff, but we can’t always get what we want, _Snivellus_ ,” Sirius sneered. “C’mon, Evans.” Sirius reached out and put a light hand on her back to turn her around.

 

Snape’s face contorted, but only for a second before he managed to smooth it back out again, “Lily, please.”

 

Sirius looked down to exchange an exasperated look with Lily but, to his surprise, found her wavering.

 

“Evans,” he said sharply. “Christmas dinner, remember?”

 

“I promise I won’t keep you long,” Snape bit out.

 

A nasty bout of silence seemed to burst from the floor between them all, spread its wings, and fly around a bit.

 

Finally, Lily sighed, “Go ahead, Black, I’ll be right in.”

 

“Evans,” Sirius warned. He didn’t like the idea of leaving her out here alone with Snape. He was painfully aware that Snape was part of a group of Slytherins who didn’t much care for muggleborns. A group of Slytherins who were excited to journey down the same road as most of his relatives. “I don’t –”

 

“Go ahead, Sirius,” Lily said, using his given name as she turned to look at him.

 

Sirius saw determination written on her face and knew he wouldn’t be able to break it. _Goddamnit._ He let out a long breath and clenched and unclenched a fist in his pocket, his slightly-better mood evaporating.

 

“Yeah, alright,” he said tightly, shooting a glance at Snape. “But if you’re not in there in five minutes, I’m coming back out here.” He said, his voice low, before he turned on his heel and strode towards the Great Hall.

 

“I can take care of myself, Black,” Lily called after him angrily.

 

“I’m aware, Evans, but I can’t miss a perfect opportunity to hex Snape, can I?” Sirius called over his shoulder, turning only enough to make eye contact with a furious-looking Snape and shoot him a rude hand gesture.


End file.
